The Assistant
by dietcokechic
Summary: Chapter 10 Kira discovers that explaining mysterious injuries isn't quite as easy as Jack and Daniel made it look.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Assistant 01 – My Invisible Friend  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Email:** 6 (pre episode 1)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Series Summary:** The continuing tales of Kira, Daniel's _former_ Barista and her new job at the SGC.

**Author's Notes:** _Sorry for the massive Barista-esque drought. There was the final push to finish my Master's Degree (done!) and then I was laid up for a while following a little surgical adventure (ooo - do I have some good hosptial H/C fodder!). However, I'm back and am going to do my darndest to post at least two stories a month. Maybe more often if they're not too long. I'm a little nervous about starting something new, so in the beginning, these are going to be short but sweet (i hope!) I'm a slightly insecure dietcokechic as I start this series, so please give me lots of feedback, okay? So without further ado...The Assistant (yes, I know. Very original, n'est pas?)_

* * *

"I start tomorrow, you know," I announce, as I slide my feet gently through the well-trampled woodchips. I absently rock back and forth a few times before pushing off and gaining air. I lean back and pull on the chains, encouraging the swing to gain altitude and speed. I inhale deeply in nostalgic happiness as I swing higher and higher. I look around and am once again amazed that no one seems to know about this place except myself. I glance scrumptiously to my left. 

Well, almost no one.

"I know," Daniel answers softly from the swing next to me. I never actually see him arrive, I mean there is no discernable difference in air movement or anything. Just one moment I'm swinging by myself, and the next, I'm swinging alongside Daniel. I chuckle to myself at the absurdity of the situation; his presence doesn't even _surprise _me any more.

"What's so funny?" Daniel asks, looking at me with those startling blue eyes of his. I'm still a little discombobulated at seeing those expressive eyes up close and in person - ghost-Daniel never shows up in glasses. Usually he's in khakis and a cream sweater, but sometimes he appears in jeans and a black t-shirt looking every inch of the Daniel Jackson who kissed me on my 21st birthday.

Oh, happy memory!

Oh, I don't know, Daniel," I begin wryly. "It might have something to do with the fact that I don't even think it is strange anymore that you're here."

"Would you rather it feel strange?" He asks seriously. I'm certain he's recalling those earlier "visits" when I alternated between hysteria and denial. The first time I saw him, I thought I had completely lost it and literally scrunched up my eyes, stuck two fingers into my ears and hummed. Ghost-Daniel stayed for only a few minutes before he realized I wasn't all that 'receptive' to his presence. The next time, he waited until I had swung by myself for a while before appearing. In hindsight, that might not have been any better, as he scared the living bejeezus out of me, causing me to fall off my swing. We both figured it out in the end, and now after ten days, it just would feel empty without Daniel. Which is crazy, I know. Daniel isn't _really_ here.

But he sure seems real to me.

I let out a small sigh, growing more and more maudlin with the realization that it will be several days before I'll be able to return. And that makes me sad, as here is the only place I ever see Daniel. Oh don't get me wrong, I know he's a hallucination. I mean, I know Daniel is dead – but here in this park, he's here for me.

Good thing for me I already passed that mandatory psychological assessment, eh?

We swing in amicable silence for several long moments. "Daniel?" I ask glancing over at him.

"Hmm?" Daniel doesn't say much during these visits. Usually he just swings with me and listens and I tell him how much I miss him, or how nervous I am about starting my first "real" job; a job that I accepted primarily because I wanted to work with a brilliant man. A brilliant man who _died _just a few weeks after offering me said job. A brilliant _dead _man who apparently has nothing better to do than haunt his favorite ex-barista on swingsets.

"I'm never going to see you again after I start work, am I?" I'm determined not to cry, but can already feel my eyes filling with tears. Suddenly I give a watery snort – I'm crying because I'm afraid my invisible friend is going to disappear? How's that for nutty!

"Kira," Daniel begins, as he motions for me to stop. "You're not crazy." He gives me a genuine 'I'm serious here' look.

"You know," I begin. "I'd have an easier time believing that if I hadn't attended your memorial service three weeks ago." Ghost-Daniel sighs and shakes his head in frustration.

"I really thought they weren't going to have one this time," he mutters. "I distinctly remember having this conversation with Jack, and he assured me that if I ever died again, there would be no memorial unless he had a body." He had this conversation with Jack? How morbid. Suddenly, it hits me.

"Died _again_!" Daniel just waves his hands absently.

"It's a long story," he begins. "Well, several long stories, actually..." his voice trails off in memory and I smile in anticipation. I really can't wait until I get to hear these stories.

Hold on.

What am I saying! **Daniel isn't really here**. I'm becoming angry with myself for trying to make this delusion something it's not.

"I _am_ really here, Kira," Daniel tries again. "You're not crazy," he insists. "And I am really here."

"Really?" I ask skeptically, as I hold out my arm and watch as it passes right through him. I try not to shiver at the emptiness.

"Well, maybe not corporeally," Daniel explains, "but I _am_ here."

"Uh huh." As if I'll believe _that_.

"You're worse than Jack," Daniel pouts. At that, I do laugh. Nice to know I can create imaginary friends with nuance. Daniel tries again. "Three months ago, you never even knew it was possible to visit other worlds, Kira. What's so hard to believe about..."

Ghosts?" I fill in helpfully.

"Non-corporeal friends paying you a visit." I'm not really certain what to make of this when Daniel, or rather Ghost-Daniel does a strange see-thru flicker. He frowns in frustration.

"I have to go, Kira," Daniel says hastily, as he shimmers again. I can see him concentrating on something. "Existing and talking at the same time is really much harder than it looks," Daniel says in a strained voice. He fades even more and I'm certain he's going to vanish for good this time.

"I'm going to miss you, Daniel!" I cry, wanting more than anything to give him a hug. Even in his flicker-state, Daniel can see how much all of this hurts.

"Talk to Jack, Kira," Daniel manages to whisper right before he disappears in a bright burst of light. My breath hitches a little as I struggle not to cry. James Stewart's imaginary 6-foot rabbit Harvey never caused _him_ to cry, so why does my 6-foot Daniel make me want to? I sit back down on the swing and take several deep breaths as I try to get control of my emotions. An eternity seems to go by as I sit there in silence and think. Eventually, I begin to swing again, still thinking. If anyone had told me six years ago, I'd get hired by Professor Yummy to work for the military (the same military where Tall Cute Guy worked), I would have thought they were completely bonkers.

Kinda like me talking to an imaginary friend.

"Ah, what the heck," I mutter, as I jump off the swing. Jack's known me for nearly six years. Somehow I don't think he's going to have me committed if I admit to talking to Daniel every now and then. And who knows?

Maybe hallucinations are contagious.

Tbc...

* * *

More Notes: I wrote nearly this entire chapter in one fell swoop very late at night. The very night in fact that I was supposed to go to bed early in anticipation of my first day back at work. I had **eight weeks** (in theory) to write, and yet, it wasn't until I tried to get a good night's sleep that inspiration struck and I had to write this all down. My muse definitely has a sense of humour. Or evilness - I haven't decided which. 

_Please_ let me know what you thought of this chapter. I promise to get Kira into the SGC next week.

© February. 21, 2006


	2. Orientation

**Title:** The Assistant 02– Orientation   
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Email:** 6 (still pre episode - Daniel has been "gone" for about a month)  
**Spoilers:** Vague references to some familiar SG characters and lore  
**Summary:** Small arms lockers? Self destruct buttons? Level 3! Kira's first day of work at the SGC.

**Author's Notes**: First things first - thank you so much for all of your wonderful feedback. I truly didn't know if I was doing the right thing with starting a new Kira series, but if your responses are anything to go by (and they sure were to me), I did good! ;p Now to set your mind at rest (for those who were worried), I am _not _going to turn Kira into a sickly sweet Mary Sue-like character. 'Ghost Daniel' was there for a very good reason and I promise to explain in a story in the somewhat-near future. There is actually a _very _good reason why Daniel visited Kira well before Jack and the rest of SG-1. Patience. ;) In the meantime, let's see how Kira handles her first day at work.

* * *

In spite of my best efforts, things were not going according to plan. 

Before heading to bed last night, I had spent a ridiculously long amount of time trying to figure out what I was going to wear in the morning. I mean, I wasn't just dressing for my first day at work; I was dressing for my first day at **Work**. As in, "I work at the most secret military institution in the world, but I really can't tell you about it." This sort of thing tends to put undue pressure on a girl.

At one point, with nearly my entire closet scattered across my bedroom, I had called Stefan in a panic and asked _him _if he had any clothes I could borrow. Sure he's 5'10 and I'm 5'2, but let's face it - he does dress better than me. Luckily, my friend not only has impeccable fashion sense, but he gives good verbal advice as well. On his urging, I put down the summer wool skirt, loosened my grip on the silk blouse, and escaped into the kitchen. I grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream, kicked off my uncomfortable new shoes (I was trying to break them in) and plopped onto the couch to watch a little television. Stefan called it, 'taking a siesta'. The fact that we weren't actually living in a sunny warm climate, and it wasn't the middle of the day didn't seem to bother Stefan. Together, albeit in separate living rooms, we watched an old Highlander rerun and happily sighed (at the same person, no less) as we watched Duncan McLeod kick a little bad immortal butt. It was close to midnight, before I tumbled into bed, but I did so content in the knowledge that the calf-length light gray skirt, ironed (!) cotton top (cream), and knee-length black boots were going to work just fine.

And they did. I mean they were.

The problem was my alarm clock and the 6 AM wake-up call. I thought 6 AM would be an excellent time to get up. I would have plenty of time for a leisurely shower, eat a nice breakfast while watching the morning news - maybe even make a lunch. The problem was that dang alarm - it didn't actually go off as scheduled.

Or at all.

Thankfully, its springtime, and the combination of sunshine and bird calls woke me up at a little after 7. I had a good twenty seconds of morning bliss, before the announcer let on that it was 7:06 and I nearly screamed. It takes at least twenty minutes to drive to the base, and there was also the added fun of security checks and elevator rides... I didn't know how I would make it by 8. I showered in record time and frantically threw on all my clothes. Breakfast consisted of an un-toasted frosted cherry pop tart and a diet coke. I grabbed a near-empty container of tic tacs (no time to brush my teeth) and quickly started the car for my journey up the hill. Well, mountain actually.

7:26. I'm expected in the briefing room (now doesn't that sound scary?) at 8 am sharp, and am having some serious doubts about my ability to so. I definitely won't set any kind of good impression on the new boss by being late my first day of work. I fight an unexpected wave of sadness, as I realize that I don't actually know who my boss will be. I mean it _was_ going to be Daniel...I bite my lip and sternly order myself not to cry. It's bad enough that I (_might. possibly._) am showing up late, but it seriously wouldn't do to arrive looking all puffy-eyed.

7:49. I make it past the first check point and pull into the parking lot. Although I'm not really surprised to see all the good spots taken, I did have my fingers crossed for something near the base gate. I spy all the jeeps and pick-up trucks and remind myself to make sure and get good tires before the first snow. Knowing Colorado, this could be anytime after September 1 st. I neatly pull into a spot at the far end of the lot and hop out of the car, barely taking the time to lock it (this is a _secured _military base after all). I'm at least twenty feet away before I remember my security card. Hopefully no one saw me banging my hand against my forehead. Briskly, I walk towards the guard (sentry?) near the elevator.

"Good morning," I say pleasantly, as I show my ID to the serious-looking marine (Air Force?) behind the desk. I'm a little surprised that he isn't wearing a name badge. I have this urge to give him a name. Shouldn't he have a name? I mean, he's guarding this whole big mountain by himself, you'd think they'd at least give him a name. I thought everyone in the military was require to wear a name badge - I mean they certainly do in the movies, and you'd think they wouldn't have bothered to add those in, if the military never really wore them...

"Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain," Unknown military guy says, startling me (thankfully) out of my thoughts. He scans my card, reads something on his computer screen and hands me back my badge with a shiny 'Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain' map. Well that's just dandy. He knows I'm the new girl as well.

"You are to report to the briefing room on Level 27," he pauses slightly before continuing. "At 0800." At least he doesn't look at his watch. I take the map and give him a tired smile. I mean it's great that I've been given a little help here (I'm certain the map will come in handy), but couldn't they have just mailed it to me in advance? Maybe I could have studied it or something. Now, I'm going to be walking around all day pulling out my map trying to figure out where I am. I try not to sigh aloud as I turn away from the guard and starting walking (briskly) towards the elevator. Or at least _attempt_ to walk towards the elevator. I hear an 'ahem' sound and turn around to see the guard pointedly tapping the sign in book. Oops. Nearly forgot about that part. I smile again to let him know I'm not completely clueless, and sign the book.

I'm really not doing well this morning, am I?

This time, I manage to turn around and successfully make it to the elevator. I use my badge to open the elevator doors and step inside. Just as the doors begin to close, I hear the sound of someone running.

"Hold the doors!" A high-pitched voice shouts, as the uneven sound of heels hitting the pavement stops. "I'll be there in a second, just please hold the doors!" Even as I glance at my watch ( 7:57), I press the 'open' button and wait. Hey, it might only be elevator karma, but I'll take whatever I can get. Besides, don't these things move with super-sonic speed and stealth?

"Thank you, thank you!" The rushed woman gushes, as she breathlessly enters the elevator. She bends down and places her hands on her knees as she tries to control her breathing. As soon as I'm certain she's not going to pass out or anything, I take my hand off the hold button. The doors close and we silently descend. Well, near silence.

"I didn't think I was going to make it," the woman wheezes, as she reaches into her purse and pulls out an asthma inhaler. With one hand, she uncaps the plastic canister and releases two short bursts into her mouth. She holds her breath for a moment before releasing it in one long exhale. A moment later she does the whole thing all over again.

"Sorry about that," the woman apologizes, as she caps the inhaler and places it back into her purse. "I normally don't run, but really didn't want to be late."

"First day?" I ask hopefully. I won't feel _nearly _so bad about being late if I'm late with someone else.

"That obvious," she asks worriedly. I nod.

"It's mine as well," I say with a little smile. We stare at each other a little as the elevator moves deeper into the mountain. I know I'm way too old to be doing this, but I can't help but check this woman out. I mean, I know (more or less) what _I'm _going to be doing here, but I wonder what she does? Daniel once told me that nearly 10 percent of the base was made up of civilians. Mostly engineers, physicists and other hard scientists, but some linguists, anthropologists and archaeologists as well. I wonder where this woman fits in. Judging from her how she's dressed, I don't think she's military. Early, maybe mid thirties, and she seems pleasant enough, despite the awfully bright shade of red lipstick. Her straight blonde hair looks more _cut _than _styled_, but considering I hadn't _styled _my hair in nearly ten years, I'm really not one to judge. I'm doing everything in my power _not _to look at the monstrosity around her neck.

"It's the outfit, isn't it?" She asks sullenly, looking down at her dark tweed skirt and 80's style silk blouse. Absently, she pats at her bow beneath her chin. "I usually wear a lab coat."

"Are you a scientist?" I ask, trying to get her mind (and my eyes) off the rather large bow at the nape of her neck. I'm thinking she should pull a Jamie Lee Curtis -- but instead of fixing a funky skirt, she should do something about that top.

"Post-doc," she says nodding. "I've done a lot of work with theoretical modeling at Cal Tech." I must look a little confused for she adds, "Physics." I nod as if I have some idea what all that means.

"My name is Kira Meyers," I say holding out my hand. "I'm a bit of a linguist, and am not really all that sure what I'm going to be doing."

"Chloe Kennedy," she laughs in return as she shakes my hand. "And all I know is that I'm to be some guy's lab assistant. I know it sounds like a step down, but I hear the guy is some kind of genius."

"Maybe he'll be cute," I offer.

"Scientists aren't known for 'cute'," she explains with a resigned sigh. I shake my head in disagreement.

"One of the cutest guys I've ever known was a scientist."

"Is he taken?" Chloe asks dryly. I try to school the look on my face, but I think I need to work on it a bit more. "I said something wrong, didn't I?" Chloe says, becoming angry with herself. "I always do that!"

"No, no," I insist as the elevator stops at Level 21. "It's just a long story," I say lamely as the doors open. There's no way I can possibly explain my relationship with Daniel in ten words or less! "You didn't say anything wrong, Chloe! Really!" Great, Kira. Meet someone new and then say something stupid. Geeze.

We're pretty quiet as a medical worker (the stethoscope gives it away) gets on board. He rides only one level down before getting off. It might just be me, but I thought I smelled French toast as the doors closed; I check my map.

"Cafeteria?" Chloe asks, tentatively. Luckily, I recognize an olive branch when I see one. I make a mental note not to act too weird in front of her. At least not until Chloe has a chance to get to know me.

"Commissary," I explain, pointing to a spot on the map. "Cafeteria for the military-minded." We look at the map together. "It says the commissary is open 24 hours a day and is open to all base personnel."

"That might come in handy some evening," Chloe remarks. I nod in agreement and fold the map up as the doors open one last time. Level 27.

"Briefing room?" I ask.

"Briefing room," Chloe confirms with a nod. Together we turn left and head down a hallway with red and yellow floor markings. I'm thankful we're not actually on the same floor as the Stargate - I don't think I'm ready to see it again quite yet. We hear voices coming from an open doorway and even though there isn't a big white sign saying, "Newbies Here!" I'm fairly certain we've reached the right place. Right before we walk inside, I glance at my watch: 8:03. I close my eyes briefly in resignation. I might be late, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

"Ms. Meyers, Dr. Kennedy," a voice booms loudly, "how nice of you to join us." I'm just glad it's General Hammond that greets me, and not Jack. General Hammond might rank higher than Jack and be a little scary in his own way, but I'm not sure if I was ready to be bawled out by Colonel Jack O'Neill. Not that it wouldn't be deserved or anything, but I hadn't quite taken the leap from Colonel Cute Guy to 2IC of Stargate Command.

"Sorry I'm late," I say sincerely, as I enter and take a seat at the far side of a large briefing table. Six people are already seated, four men and two women. I look around the room and make some eye contact with the new "recruits" around me. "Really sorry I'm late everyone, it won't happen again."

"Me too," Chloe mumbles, eyes firmly fixed on the briefing material in front of her. Or her big blue bow - it's hard to tell the difference.

"Now that our wayward scientists have arrived, we can begin," General Hammond says casting a stern eye in Chloe's and my direction. "Welcome again to Stargate Command! I know all of you have been here at least once before, but today is the first day of your three-day orientation period." I'm fairly certain I wasn't the only one who had, 'Three Day!' written all over her face, for General Hammond went on to explain in greater detail.

"All of you are civilian scientists. We have found that it sometimes takes civilians a few days of additional...assistance before becoming comfortable. Today, Sgt. Harriman is going to show you around the base, and introduce you to your new department heads." A short, kind-looking man in a dark blue jumpsuit nods at us. He makes eye contact with me and slyly turns his coffee mug around; it's a Victor's mug. I can't help but grin - Sgt. Harriman gives me a knowing wink. General Hammond opens his mouth to tell us something new, when suddenly an alarm sounds and something akin to an emergency light in the corner of the room turns red.

"Unscheduled incoming wormhole!" Sgt. Harriman says to the General as he heads towards the stairs. He turns back around before heading down. "Sir, with your permiss..."

"Go!" the General orders as Harriman disappears down the spiral staircase. "I was going to save this for later," the General says as he heads over to a panel near a solid wall, "But there's no time like the present to introduce you to what it is we really do here." He pushes something on a panel and the slate gray wall vanishes and all we are left with a bird's eye view of the Stargate. I know this is only my second time seeing it, but I have a funny feeling this sight will never get old.

"Oh my God," I hear someone whisper behind me.

"I'm needed in the Control Room," Hammond explains, as we all stare out the window. "If you all could please stay put, I or Sgt. Harriman will return as soon as we can." I'm certain I nod. I'm also certain that most everyone else in that room nodded too. And I'm pretty certain I'm not the only one who can't take my eyes off that spinning wheel and the glowing symbols along the outer rim.

"Repeat, we have an unscheduled incoming wormhole," Harriman's voice is heard announcing through the base's PA system." We watch as the seventh symbol lights up. I'm kindof waiting for that blue tidal wave effect, but it doesn't happen.

"Receiving IDC," the sergeant says. _IDC? What the heck is an IDC? _"It's SG-1." _Jack!_

"I thought they weren't due back until tomorrow," General Hammond says.

"They aren't, sir," Harriman agrees. I don't actually hear the general sigh, but my imagination sure does.

"Open the iris," the general orders. "Security and medical personnel to the Gateroom," Hammond announces over the loudspeakers.

We watched transfixed as the iron (steel?) covering on the gate disappears and the blue water I remember from my lone visit shimmers into existence. I hear a few low murmurs of wonder, but the moment a soldier walks through the water the gasps become audible and more than a few people take a step backwards. I can't help it. I find myself taking a step _forward._ I then smile. Colonel Jack!

Jack comes through the Stargate looking a little annoyed, but no worse for wear. He takes off his sunglasses and hands his weapon to a military guy standing by the side of the gate. Behind him, I recognize Sam and Murr..Teal'c. Whoa. Teal'c really does look a lot more like an alien without a hat. Or maybe a God. Man, that guy is built! Even from twenty feet away, I can make out the symbol on his forehead. 'Wow' doesn't even cut it.

Then I notice the fourth guy. He's walking (kinda) between Sam and Teal'c. He isn't wearing a shirt. Not that he really needs to wear a shirt (can you say six-pack?), but I'm guessing walking through the Stargate is kind of a 'No Shoes - No Shirt - No Entry' kind of thing. The guy's eyes don't seem to be tracking all that well.

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond asks into the Gateroom microphone, "what happened to your team?" He might have said 'team' but the question was clearly meant for the drugged-out looking fourth member of SG-1. My heart clenches a little as I realize this is the guy who is replacing Daniel.

"He ate the cake," Jack replies smugly.

"Excuse me?" the General asks.

"Sir," Sam begins. "After a successful first contact with the inhabitants of P3X-526, our team was invited to a dinner."

"A dinner where Captain Lucky over here ate the cake," Jack finishes.

"The desert does appear to cause mild euphoria and hallucinations," Sam continues trying to keep the 'injured' soldier upright, while at the same time trying to move away from his roaming hands.

"You're not a hallucination, Major Carter, are you?" the drugged soldier asks Sam lovingly, attempting to give her a sappy puppy dog look. Unfortunately, in his current state, the look is almost obscene.

"Medical assistance to the Gateroom," Hammond repeats on the basewide PA system.

"I warned him about the cake," Jack says again, as he relieves Sam of her burden. She walks over to another one of the gate guards and passes over her guns (two!) and this heavy-looking vest thing she is wearing.

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, O'Neill," Teal'c states solemnly, giving Jack, what looked to me, like a dirty look. "You know Captain Lynch will recover from this experience deeply embarrassed. Did we not turn the other cheek when something similar happened to you?" Jack's good humor seems to fade.

"Not quite the right use of the phrase, T," Jack says, relinquishing his grip on the captain to the medical technicians. "Besides, back then, Carter was trying to impress me, and you were still Scary Jaffa Guy - neither of you said a thing. But _Daniel_..." his voice trails off and he takes a moment before turning towards the technicians. "He going to be all right?" Jack asks.

"It looks like a pretty standard narcotic reaction, sir," one of the techs replies. "We'll know more after we test him, but I'm guessing he'll sleep it off and just wake up with a headache.

"Yeah, that sounds about right..." Jack mutters, scratching his head.

"Debriefing in one hour, SG-1," Hammond orders. Like a well-oiled machine, the gate room swiftly empties.

"That's four, General," Jack yells holding up four fingers as he exits through the doorway.

* * *

"Wow," one of the new scientists says, as he staggers back to his seat. "That was SG-1!" 

"Yeah, so?" Clearly not everyone is impressed. Apparently, we aren't all operating from an even playing board as far as knowledge of the base goes.

"SG-1!" He says, becoming more animated. "Only _the _premiere first contact team! Those guys have done it all!"

"They didn't look all that impressive to me," another man remarks. I snicker when I hear a woman behind me mumble, "they sure did to ME." The unimpressed man continues on, "that third guy couldn't even stand on his own!"

"**He **isn't a member of SG-1," the know-it-all explains. "At least not a permanent member. From what my cousin says, SG-1 is currently going through fourths like they're going out of style."

"What do you mean?" another woman asks. I know exactly where this conversation is going and really want to leave.

"You mean, you haven't heard about what happened to Dr. Jackson?" I close my eyes and don't say a word. I listen once again to Daniel's tragedy and try not to show how affected I am by it all. His version of Daniel's death is a little different than the one Jack told me - I make a mental note to ask for more detail once I know I am willing to do so without crying. There are a lot of questions and some general conversation that floats back and forth, and it's all I can do not to get up and walk out of the room. It isn't like they are saying anything mean about Daniel, but they are talking about him abstractly. In the past. As if he wasn't a real person. Thankfully, Sgt. Harriman returns before too long and our tour of the SGC begins in earnest.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Dr. Gussman asks as we head back to the Commissary for lunch. "The archaeologists and linguists are on Level 18, the mathematicians and physicists are on 21, the kitchen is on 22, the General's office and the briefing room are on 27 and the Stargate itself and the base's self destruct are on Level 28." 

"Along with the main armory," Sgt. Harriman adds helpfully.

"Man oh man," Gussman exclaims, rubbing his forehead. "This is a lot to take in!"

"I know it's pretty overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it." As if on cue, the red lights on the edges of the Commissary begin to flash and we hear, "Offworld Activation, Offworld Activation!"

"Don't worry about that - it's just the scheduled return of SG-3," Harriman says, trying to mollify those feeling nervous (again). We're all in line for our lunches, with Dr. Drexel (call me Ryan) in the very back, studying his SGC map.

"Hey!" Ryan says, loudly enough to turn a few heads near by. "You forgot to show us something."

"Really?" Harriman asks, as he picks up a tray of mystery meat and mashed potatoes. "What's that?"

"Level 3!" Ryan replies with a grin. Harriman chuckles and shakes his head.

"It's not usually part of the tour," he explains moving on towards desert.

"What's on Level 3?" Chloe asks, interested.

"Paychecks," I reply not missing a beat. "Level 3 is the Accounting Department." Everyone turns to look at me.

"How did you know that?" Gussman asks. I smile innocently.

"It's also the base repository for mission files. If you're late filling out a form, or completing a requisition, someone from Level 3 contacts you."

"Really?" Ryan asks.

Walter Harriman nods in agreement. "Oh yeah." He's about to say more when I spy Colonel Jack entering the room. We make eye contact and I give him a smile. It occurs to me that I have absolutely no idea how to act around him. I mean here. On his base.

"Well, hello new scientists!" Jack greets all of us warmly. He gives everyone a cheery smile, but I swear, his eyes are twinkling. At me.

"Have a good trip, sir?" Walter asks.

"Oh you know," Jack says nonchalantly. "We went, saw a few trees, ate some cake..." I can't help but snicker. Jack tries to give me the 'I disapprove of that attitude, missy' look, but it doesn't work. "Enjoying your first day?" he asks the group. We all nod in agreement.

"I just finished giving them the tour, sir," Walter explains.

"Well, not the _complete _tour," Ryan mumbles.

"What'd you miss?" Jack asks rubbing his hands together. "I'm the base 2IC ya know, I can show you just about anything." Jack isn't saying this like he's bragging or anything, more like someone who knows where the good chocolate is kept.

"We want to see Level 3," Dr. Gussman requests. Silence. Everyone just stands there as Jack looks serious and pensive. For several long moments he appears to be deep in thought.

"Three, huh?" For those who don't know him, he really does look like he is giving this notion some serious consideration. Oh he's thinking all right, but somehow I don't think it's of visiting Level 3. Suddenly, his expression changes as he flips open this fancy velcro cover on his watch.. "Oh, would you look at the time?" He clucks his tongue as if it's much too late. "It's been nice meeting all you folks, but I have to go now. Important SGC business." He gives me a wink, snags a roll off Walter's tray and then strides purposefully out the main entrance. I grin.

I'm going to enjoy working with Jack O'Neill.

* * *

More Notes: Ta'dah! So... my first full length Assistant story at the SGC (and did you notice the length?) I hope it worked for you and you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. All the levels (including Accounting) are real - they came from the Stargate Omnipedia at Gateworld. Now as to Chloe's last name or any of the other scientists mentioned in this story - those are all from my imagination. More to come! 

3/10/06 Addendum: Thanks to Lydia, Marilyn, Maab, Nancy, Nighshae and Jennzabelle for pointing out a few earlier boo-boos. Hammond's office now has a blast shielf for a wall, level 13 has rightfully become Level 3 and Walter doesn't announce that it's SG-1 until _after _their IDC has been sent through. See? This is what happens when I write a ten-page story instead of a three-pager, and still try and post by midnight! I've also altered a few of the last lines so that Jack isn't showing Kira deferential treatment. I mean -- at least not in an _obvious _way. Yet. VBG

Written March 8, 2006


	3. Goa'uld 101

**Title:** The Assistant 03– Goa'uld 101   
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Email:** 6 (still pre episode 1 - next story will be set in the Season 6 universe)  
**Spoilers:** Barista 16, 319- New Ground, loads of little SGC references  
**Summary:** Kira learns a few choice new words and finally meets her Klingons.

**Notes: **Sorry this has taken me nearly a month to get to you, but do note the _length_...It might be taking me a bit longer to write/post, but the stories _are_ longer . I have yet to show Kira actually _working_ with people, or introduce her to more of the base, but I'll get there. Promise!

* * *

You know, when Daniel and Jack first pitched the SGC to me, they really made it sound much more…exotic. I mean, I wasn't exactly expecting Star Trek with 'beaming' technology or anything (although, that would be so cool!), but it would be nice to meet a Klingon or something a little more alien'ish. The only alien I've met so far is Teal'c, a guy I thought was an ex-college football player or at the very least, a regular patron at Gold's Gym. I definitely didn't imagine him to be an alien with a fondness for Pigs in a Blanket. I'm now having strange dreams about E.T. kicking the winning field goal at the Super Bowl while eating pancakes. 

So instead of hobnobbing with aliens (something I would really like to do), I find myself sitting in an underground silo learning how to recognize the Stargate glyphs for Earth. If this were a historic seminar, I would find it fascinating and probably be asking a zillion questions. But this isn't a course on cultural theory; it's about real life survival. Kind of makes it a bit scary. Forget learning about which berries are edible; in this course, I'm learning what glyphs to push, just _in case_ I find myself trapped alone off world and need to 'dial' home. This isn't exotic – it's surreal! Daniel had mentioned that I would spend my first couple weeks at the SGC participating in training, but (silly me) I thought he meant _military_ training; I had no idea that I would be attending SGCU with a dozen new military recruits and some civilian scientists.

I keep bouncing back and forth between being completely awed and thrilled at all of this, and wondering just what I have gotten myself into. The worst part is not being able to share any of this with my friends. Stefan would have kittens if he knew half of what I'm learning, and it kills me that I can't share it with him! I might not have met my aliens yet, but I do know that roughly 65 of SGC personnel are single, over 40 divorced and 10 live with their parents. The odds of staying married to someone not working at the SGC or in another branch of the military that knows about the Stargate program, are less than 10. Ouch.

And then there's the gossip! I thought high school gossip was bad, but it doesn't hold a candle to the stuff going around Stargate Command. The civilians gossip about the military, funding sources, and the latest technology coming through the gate. The military gossip about assignments, other military personnel, and nursing rotations. And the betting pools! Both sides participate in utterly ridiculous betting pools. How many times will Sergeant Harriman say, "Chevron Seven Locked!" in a given week; how many times Siler will end up in the Infirmary; and the current favorite: how many people will SG-1 go through before Jack's satisfied with Daniel's replacement? There's a lot of quiet talk about Daniel and Jack. At first I was worried, as their names were frequently mentioned in _conjunction_ with one another. But even if I had been completely fooled by their relationship, I was certain Stefan would have picked up on the 'Gay vibe' and clued me in. Later I heard yet _more _gossip surrounding Jack and **Sam** of all people! I truly doubt those two are spending their off-duty hours making out on General Hammond's desk.

My thoughts are interrupted as Dr. Roget turns away from glyphs (after assigning us on-base homework no less) and onto some actual alien words. Unconsciously I sit up straighter – now we're getting to the good stuff! This is what I've been waiting to learn about since I've arrived.

"Knock, knock," I hear a familiar voice say. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide the grin. I was deluding myself when I imagined Jack would be more "proper" at work; if anything, he's even more sarcastic and unassuming.

"Colonel O'Neill, what an unexpected surprise." Dr. Roget is nothing but solicitous, but I can tell that he isn't especially thrilled about having his "class" interrupted. "I thought you weren't due to come and talk to us until tomorrow." Tomorrow's the day we get to hear a little Stargate military history. In the past, it has always been Daniel who has given the uninitiated a history of the Stargate and the SGC (and always on the first day), but they changed the order around a bit after Daniel…died. Although we have been told the basic story (and one I'm really dying to ask Jack about for more details – I can't believe it was actually he and Daniel who went through the gate that first time!), we haven't heard any good battle stories yet. It's that anthropologist within – I want to hear stories. I'm dying to hear how SG-1 defeated Apophis! Er…at least I think it was SG-1. I've been told that it was Jack and his team that defeated Apophis by blowing up a sun. I mean, it sounds crazy, doesn't it? That's the problem with gossip – you never really know if it's true until you get to ask the source.

"I know, I know, "Jack begins, casually walking into the room and stepping behind the podium. "But I couldn't resist giving the Fingies here a few linguistic pointers." Dr. Roget frowns. I'm not sure if he's troubled by Jack's use of military slang for 'new guys', or the notion that a Colonel was going to try some Goa'uld words out on us. Maybe Jack doesn't have a very good accent?

"Hi kids," Jack says giving us a grin. "How do you like the SGC so far?"

"The food sucks," one of the new military guys blurts out. We all laugh.

"It's better than offworld rations," Jack replies, giving us a shrug. "And the chocolate cake is to _die_ for." He pauses for a second and meets my eye. He cocks his head just slightly and smiles in a way that makes me think he's doing it for me – which is silly and pollyannish I know, but I still get all glowy on the inside. We never really talked about it, but both of us kind of decided to be…aloof with one another while on base. I mean, it isn't like Jack isn't friendly to most people he knows, but unless we're alone (which sounds awfully creepy when I say it like that, doesn't it?), we're just nominally cordial to one another. Well, at least that's how it's been so far. I think Jack is concerned about showing favoritism – kinda like a dad whose kid comes to work in his office. Truth be told, I like the idea of my "making it" on my own without Jack as well. Still, at the end of the day, he _isn't _my dad and we _are _friends, something I think I'll try to keep from Dr. Gussman as long as I can – that guy has an unhealthy fascination with SG-1. I sure hope that doesn't rub off on any of the physicists on Level 21.

"Right!" Jack begins, rubbing his hands together. "Time for Goa'uld 101. I'm going to be filling you in on a few choice words and phrases, and sometime later this morning, my man Teal'c will drop by and help all you scientists on the pronunciation."

"Not the military?" A guy in the back asks. I know if I turn around, I'll be able to tell instantly if he's military or civilian, but I don't want everyone to stare at me if I do, so I'll just leave it to my imagination.

Military.

"Nope," Jack says shaking his head. "All you grunts get to come with me and learn everything you ever wanted to know about zats."

"Zats?" I ask, interested.

"Zats!" Jack repeats, giving a decisive nod. "It's short for zat-nickle or something like that. Ask Teal'c – he'll tell you all about it."

"Yes, but what is it?" I ask again.

"Are you always so inquisitive?" Jack asks impishly. I tell myself not to blush, but of course fail miserably.

"Sometimes," I mumble, sinking lower into my chair. I'm _so_ going to get you for this Jack O'Neill!

"Well, inquisitiveness is a good thing around here, so no need to be embarrassed," Jack says with authority. "In fact, we probably wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for the inquisitiveness of scientists and…" Jack pauses as he attempts to come up with the perfect word. "Geeks!" he finally says, triumphantly.

I don't think that was the word he should have used, but he made his point. Somewhere, I'll bet Daniel is rolling his eyes; come to think of it, I'm certain if Sam were around, she'd be as well.

"Right," Jack says again, rubbing his hands together. "Let's begin!" There's a rustle from the room as people pull out notebooks and pencils. Ha! So much for leaving school behind.

"Ah, you don't need any of that," Jack insists with a dismissive wave. "I'm only going to teach you a few of them, you'll learn more in detail in the next couple of days." A few people put down their pencils, but most of us keep them handy. With an air of authority (and let's face it, he does have it), Jack begins.

"First things first," Jack says as he starts pacing. "Does anyone know the Goa'uld word for Stargate?"

"Why would we want to know _that_?" One of the scientists from the front row asks. "I mean, it isn't likely that we'd become lost and ask a _Goa'uld_ for directions." Knowing I'm behind the guy, and thus can't be seen, I give in to the temptation to roll my eyes. I know most everyone in this room is super smart, but for geniuses, some of these guys are idiots.

"Well," Jack says exaggerating his words. "It seems that the majority of the _human_ populations of the galaxy were _actually_ brought through Stargates by the _Goa'uld. _And seeing how the _humans_ learned the word for Stargate_ from_ the _Goa'uld_, it's a pretty handy phrase to know." He looked smug. "Just in case you get lost and need to ask for directions." A few of us chuckle (quietly).

"The word is **chappa'ai**." We repeat 'choppa-eye' and Jack corrects us. "No, don't try and make the syllables into something you recognize – just listen to how I say it. "Chappa'ai." We repeat it again and this time Jack nods.

"Now if a Jaffa ," he pauses and wrinkles his forehead a bit, "you guys do know that the Jaffa aren't the enemy right?" I think most of us nod. "It's the Goa'uld who are the enemy, not the Jaffa . Unfortunately, if you get into trouble, it's usually the Goa'uld's Jaffa warriors who are there to sneer at you and try and soften you up for their 'Gods'". He says "Gods" holding up two fingers and making quote signs. "Some of these guys aren't very nice," Jack says rocking back and forth on his feet. "And if you happen to find yourself grossly outnumbered and surrounded and manage to hear a Jaffa or two yell **Shel-norak!** It's probably a good idea to lower your weapons and surrender." We repeat Shel-norak a few times and this time it's Jack that struggles not to laugh. "We'll work on that later," he manages to say.

"Next up is an oldie but goodie." Jack's eyes twinkle with obvious merriment and I'm both curious and a little afraid of what's to come. "But before, I teach you this one..." he pauses and looks me straight in the eye. "Ms. Meyers, is it?" Oh Lord, what is he going to do now?

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill," I reply primly. Jack had better watch it. While it's true I don't want any favoritism, I also am not all that keen on being someone's joke.

"Your first name is Kira, is it not?" What the heck is he doing?

"Yes, Colonel, my first name is Kira." As if you haven't known that for years.

"And by any chance do you happen to have any nicknames?" Like an electric shock it hits me. I'm about to find out why it has taken literally years for Jack and Daniel to hear my name without flinching.

"Why yes, Colonel O'Neill, I do," I reply with just the right level of inflection to let him know that I'm onto where he's going with all this.

"And would you care to tell the class what that might be?" Jack asks. Well, go figure. The way Jack and I are bantering back and forth I feel like I'm emulating Daniel in the infamous 'Jack and Daniel' show.

"Why sure," I begin, it's..." Before I can finish, my voice is drowned out by the sound of metallic marching and what I'm pretty certain is the Stargate dialing. I shut my mouth in fascination as Jack motions for me to listen.

"Wait for it," he murmurs.

"Jaffa !" a voice booms over the loudspeakers, "Kree!" All color drains from my face as the sound of the metallic marching stops. Oh my gosh!… "Shel-norak!" the voice shouts again.

"You know, I don't think we will," a recorded Jack O'Neill says. Even under fire, Jack is completely irreverent.

"Shel na kree!" the angry voice orders. I hear the sounds of weapons charging. Or what I imagine charging weapons might sound like.

"Sorry," the Jack recording says again. "I'm really not so good at following orders from you folks. You can ask any…" There's a discharge of weapon fire that causes Jack to shut up and all of us to flinch. Immediately afterwards, you can hear the Stargate come to life.

"Sending authorization code now," a female voice says. That must be Sam. We don't hear anything more from SG-1, but I imagine they're busy doing some of those funky military hand signals to one another.

"Everyone through!" Jack suddenly orders in a loud voice. "Carter, Teal'c, Daniel – go!" More weapons fire. The noise is deafening! Guess the Goa'uld aren't big fans of silencers.

"A kek hasshak. Ya duru!" The lead Jaffa yells in uncontrolled anger. Wow, I might not know what the means, but I can recognize expletives when I hear them. "A kek…" Abruptly the words are cut off as the wormhole disengages and we are met with complete silence. I now understand how silence can be deafening. Whoa.

"And that, boys and girls is Goa'uld 101."

* * *

Dr. Roget tried to bring the class back to order after Jack left, but it was pretty useless. I know I wasn't paying much attention – I was too busy coming to terms with the knowledge of what 'Kree' means in Goa'uld. Damn. I'm going to need a new nickname. 

Classes ended early and I found myself meandering towards the cafeteria. Jack must have implanted some subliminal message or something – I just can't get the image of cake out of my mind! My mouth waters as I picture a thick slice of homemade chocolate cake.

The reality of course is that all they have is pie. Luckily, it's blackberry pie (my favorite!) and vanilla ice cream. Yum! I take my pie and look around for a place to sit. I don't particularly feel like sitting with the students, but then again, I'm not up to being the 'fingie' and sitting with someone I don't know either. My face breaks out into a grin as I recognize someone.

"Hi, Teal'c," I say standing in front of my pancake-eating friend. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all, KiraMeyers," Teal'c replies cordially with a nod. I sit down next to him and try not to stare at the enormous pile of food in front of him. "How are you enjoying your new employment?" Teal'c asks.

"There's a lot to take in," I admit.

"O'Neill gave his language lesson today, did he not?" I nod. "It normally is not taught in such a manner; O'Neill wanted to do something special for you."

"For me?" I manage to squeak out.

"Indeed," Teal'c confirms. "Ever since that day several years ago when we met in the Park, O'Neill has longed to inform you of what 'Kree!' means in the language of the Goa'uld." Wow. Jack's been planning this for that long? Scary. I'm trying to think of how I should answer that when I hear someone ask Teal'c a question.

"Would it be all right to sit with you friend Teal'c?" I look up and see an earnest looking man with rather long sideburns and a full tray of assorted fruits. He appears to be in his late twenties and is wearing one of those ubiquitous white lab coats. I'm guessing he must be one of the 60 or so scientists I have yet to meet.

"Of course," Teal'c replies with a nod. He motions for the scientist to sit and the two of us look at each other sheepishly. "KiraMeyers, I would like you to meet Nyan. He too was a friend of DanielJackson." From what I have learned, nearly everyone on the base was a friend of Daniel's, but I smile and hold out my hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nyan." He shakes my hand and looks at me somewhat anxiously.

"You're the one who gave Daniel all his coffee," Nyan says, as he begins cutting the grapes in his fruit salad. _Cutting grapes? _

"That, I am," I reply.

"I enjoyed it," Nyan states, giving me a little nod. "If I supply you with some currency, might you bring me some?"

"Um, sure," I reply. _Currency?_ "You'll have to tell me what kind though." Nyan frowns.

"The kind Daniel drank, of course," he replies, making another dainty cut to a strawberry. Nyan must be one of the eccentric scientists. All three of us eat in silence for several moments before another person joins us.

"Teal'c! Nyan! Young woman I have yet to meet!" He stares at me for a moment and then snaps his fingers and gives me a large smile. "You must be Kira Meyers," he says holding out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You too..?"

"Jonas. Jonas Quinn." Unlike Nyan who seems a little uncomfortable, Jonas seems to be nearly bouncing with energy and just plain good naturedness. Even though I just met the guy, I decide to kid him a little.

"Nice to meet you as well, Jonas. Jonas Quinn." I smile and try not to stare; Jonas Quinn is rather easy on the eyes.

"You've been hanging around Teal'c!" he laughs, as he picks up an orange and begins to peel it. I'm relieved to see that he's doing it like a normal person. Nyan's fruit cutting was starting to make me a little nervous.

"Having not stepped through the Stargate yet, I do admit to talking to Teal'c as much as possible," I pause and take a bite of my pie. "After all, he's the only alien I've ever met!" Three pairs of eyes swivel in my direction and stare at me in silence. Seconds tick by.

I drop my spoon as my eyes become the size of saucers. If I have a panic attack now, I'll never forgive myself.

"No _way_!" I blurt out loud.

Jonas nods, looking pleased as punch. "You seem to be sitting with three of the SGC 's resident aliens Ms. Meyers."

"But..," I sputter. "You're human!" Jonas shakes his head no.

"Sorry, we just look human – although I've been told that there is a very real possibility that our peoples were brought to our various planets through the Stargate on Earth. Nyan is Bedrosian, and I'm from Kelowna - I don't think you'll find either of our countries in any of your maps." Jonas takes a bite of his own pie, not at all concerned how crazy this all sounds to me.

"Wow! This is really good! What is it?"

"Blackberry pie," I reply, glad to have something to say. _I'm sitting with three honest to goodness aliens! Holy crap! _

"You have the best food, on this planet!" Jonas says heartily, mouth still full of pie.

"You've been to other planets?" I ask.

"No," Jonas admits. "Well, not besides my own and Earth. But I hope to, soon."

"Me, too," Nyan adds. "I'm looking forward to going off world sometime in the next seven cycles."

"Days," Jonas corrects absently as he takes another bite of ice cream and smiles. "Love this frozen milk!"

"Ice cream," Teal'c replies.

"What do you do?" I ask Nyan, trying to not stare at Jonas and all the pleasure he is deriving out of everyday food.

"I am an archaeologist," Nyan replies.

"You must have worked with Daniel." Nyan nods and looks sad. I know the feeling, Nyan.

"And you, Jonas? What do you do?"

"I was a scientist on my planet, but here…" his voice trails off and for the first time since I've met him, he looks a little lost. "So far, I'm reading a lot about your history and culture."

"There's a lot to learn!" I reply. Jonas shrugs good naturedly and doesn't look worried. Ha! As if anyone can learn everything about Earth culture in one lifetime. All too soon, I finish my pie and grudgingly stand up to leave.

"It was wonderful meeting you all," I say sincerely, giving both Jonas The Talkative, and Nyan The Shy a big smile. "I hope to have a chance to talk with all three of you again, soon."

"Anytime!" Jonas replies, smiling as he steals a piece of turkey off of Teal'c's plate. Teal'c raises an eyebrow in disapproval. "Sorry, Teal'c," Jonas apologies, "I couldn't resist."

"In the future, you should well try, JonasQuinn. The food counter is not a far distance." I walk away as I hear Jonas apologize again, and ask both Teal'c and Nyan what their favorite Earth dishes are.

I smile to myself as I head down the hall. Forget E.T. - I've met my Klingons!

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, so there are loads of references to all sorts of things in this one, including my rather cheeky inclusion of Dr. Roget. And yes, I _intentionally_ had Kira get a few things wrong. Now, won't it be more fun when she finds out what is true and w hat isn't? This is a PG-rated story, so I'm not going to give you the _actual _definition of 'fingie' (aka - FNG) – just know that it IS military slang, and not necessarily polite. Yes, the ending is a little contrived, but didn't it just make you smile? Sometimes, I just can't help myself. 

Loads of people deserve thanks on this one: Betsy, Cassandra, Charlotte, Clare, Julia, Maab, Misi, Sharyn and Susan. Also thanks to Arduinna's Stargate SG-1 Handbook for Goa'uld language tips and Gateworld's Omnipedia for help on character traits and history. **Nyan** was the young man who stayed with Teal'c when he was blinded in episode 319 - New Ground. At the end of the episode, Daniel invites him back to Earth to be his research assistant. I have many of those folks from above to thank for that little gem! I promise to flesh him out in the future. Oh! And all you Jonas lovers/haters out there -- Kira has _met_ the guy but she doesn't yet know his story. Food for thought...

The Goa'uld defined:

**kree** - " attention" , " listen up" , " concentrate" ... " Yoo-hoo"   
**shel kree**- " silence!" or " enough!"  
**shel-norak**- Possibly " surrender" , " lower your weapons" , " don't try it" , etc.  
**A kek hasshak. Ya duru!** At a guess, " These expletive of choice are too weak to live. Take them!" or " execute them!" or something similar, possibly with the subtext of " do the honorable thing by killing them"

And the English defined:

**Pigs in a blanket** - Where I come from (Western United States) this involves sausage and pancakes.

Next story should be all about Daniel! ;)

Written April 3, 2006


	4. The Rules of Ascension

**Title:** The Assistant 04 - The Rules of Ascension  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6 (a tiny bit takes place during episode 522 - Revelations; most during pre-Season 6)  
**Spoilers:** 521 - Meridian; 522 - Revelations; Assistant 1  
**Summary:** Daniel's life as an Ascended Being isn't quite what he expected.

**Notes: **Okay, so it has taken me over four years to write this, but here's my take on Ascended Daniel. For the most part it's in the "present", but you might catch glimpses of events that have yet to happen – Ascension time isn't quite the same as our time after all. ;).

* * *

I remember feeling the pain, the horrible agony as the cells within my body began to die. 

I remember seeing the anguish on Janet's face, and hearing the sorrow in her voice when she told me that this time she couldn't save me.

I remember talking with Jack. I remember asking him to tell Jacob to stop healing me.

I remember saying goodbye.

And then...

And then I found myself...**Here**.

I'm not really sure how much time has passed since I left Jack standing by the Stargate, but it feels like an impossibly long period of time. Was I in some sort of limbo perhaps? A cosmic waiting room prior to ascending to...

To **Here**.

I might have known thirty-some odd languages on Earth, but none of them can accurately describe what it is I'm _seeing_, or rather _experiencing_ all around me. It's like knowing, instantaneously, all the answers on Jeopardy before Alex Trebec has even asked the questions.

Although I just can't describe what it is, I'm fairly certain I know what it is _not_. This isn't heaven. I honestly don't know what I envisioned heaven to be like, but I know this can't be it. Definitely no pearly gates, but more importantly, my Sha're isn't here waiting for me. It wouldn't be heaven without Sha're. A feeling of sadness washes over me and then, inexplicably, it is gone.

**Here** is incredible.

But not being able to put all this into words is maddening. I find myself struggling to try and reconcile the sounds, colors, _knowledge_ of everything around me and then...

And then the feeling is gone and I am just _experiencing_.

* * *

Time passes. 

I'm aware that on some grand, cosmic level, time is passing, yet I'm unaffected. I'm content. I'm not the least bit curious as to what I have left behind.

And then suddenly, I _am_.

God, I _am_! I'm filled with such an intense yearning to see my friends, the desire to return to the SGC is so profound, that without conscious thought I suddenly find myself back in my lab. It takes a moment to realize that this is not a dream; I'm really _here_. I can _see_ Sam slumped over a corner of my desk, her arms holding tightly to one of my journals. I can _hear_ the sounds of the base around me. I take a step toward her; Sam stirs, and then...

And then in an eye blink, it all vanishes.

I look around and find myself back **Here**.

"_What happened_?" I ask aloud, not realizing that I'm not alone.

"_You cannot return to your past, Daniel_."

"_I know that_," I say more sharply than I intend. "_I just wanted to make sure Sam was okay_."

"_Distant water won't quench your immediate thirst_." Surprisingly, I know exactly what this means.

_"I'm not dead_,"I reply with authority. "_There's no reason why I can't visit my friends_."

"_They have their journey, you have your own_."

"_They're in pain_,"I reply softly. "I _want to go to them_."

"_You won't help shoots grow by pulling them up higher_."I close my eyes in sorrow as I take in Oma's wisdom. I understand. It might make me feel better to help my friends, but it won't necessarily help them; all of us have to learn to live without. Oma gives me a small smile. "_It will become easier, Daniel._"

"_I can never return_?"

"_Someday_,"Oma replies. "_Someday when the pain is not as fresh, when your own journey is more pronounced, you will be able to return_. _For now, the bonds that allowed you to escape your home are the same ones that now prevent you from returning._"

"_I miss them_,"I whisper.

"_You always will_,"Oma answers. "_But it will fade, and you will find that there are other ways to help your friends – to help yourself._"

I return to **Here** and think about this for some time.

* * *

Time passes. 

Each moment is filled with such wonder and novelty, that I find myself going days – perhaps weeks, without thinking of what I left behind. It isn't that I'm 'happy' per say, more like 'at peace'. I am certain I made the right choice.

I am back **Here**, listening and observing, when I hear the sound of someone crying. Without conscious thought, I once again find myself back on Earth, back in Colorado Springs. Before me, sitting listlessly on a swing, is my former barista, and would-be protégé, Kira Meyers. My heart breaks for her. After knowing me for over five years, she is finally let in on the big Stargate secret only to…

Only to hear about my death.This isn't right.

"_I have to go to her_," I say aloud, knowing that Oma will inevitably show up to tell me why I mustn't; this time, I'm prepared. This is not where I 'died', the rules don't apply.

"_You know this is not possible, Daniel_," Oma says softly from my side. "_It is not good for you to remain like this."_

"_Like what?"_ I ask, trying not to raise my 'voice'. "_It's wrong of me to feel for my friends? To want to help them?_"

"_Daniel_, Oma begins patiently. "_We have through this before.."_

"_Yes, but Kira is not SGC,"_ I quickly reply. Before Oma can interject, I hastily continue. "_I mean, not yet anyways_." I point towards Kira. "_She thinks I'm _dead." Oma looks at the sad young woman before us and sighs.

"_But what good are you seeking, Daniel?_"

"_I can help her,"_ I insist. "_Look, I know this might not be normal, or playing by your unwritten Ascension rules, but I know I can help her_!" Oma doesn't look convinced. _"I was the one who brought her into my world, Oma."_ I say pointing towards where my heart would be if I were in human form._ "I was the one who convinced her to work with me at the SGC. This poor woman is now left with a momentous decision as to whether or not to work there, and I'm _certain_ no one has told her anything! She doesn't know about my ascension! My 'death' shouldn't be the catalyst that forces her to look elsewhere." _I take a breath and mentally cross my fingers. I know Oma has the power to prevent me from visiting Kira. Oma looks at me for several long moments before bowing her head.

"_Very well_," she says. "_You may go to her, Daniel. You may spend some time _listening_ to young Kira and helping her make sense of your 'death'_. _You may_ not," Oma admonishes, "_tell her about your Ascension. The moment she believes you to be 'real', you will vanish_."

"_I understand_," I reply, nodding as best as I can. A moment later, I am sitting beside Kira on the swingset. And listening.

It takes nearly a week before I sense that Kira has said everything she needs to say. In the end, once I knew that she was going to be fine and that she would definitely start work at the SGC, I even told her I was 'real'. I'm not certain if it's because she is sensing that I am more than a ghost, or if it is just time for me to go, but I suddenly feel the pull to return.

"_I have to go, Kira," _I say quickly as I begin to lose the ability to appear solid. "_Existing and talking at the same time is really much harder than it looks._" I try to say this casually, but the strain of staying with her to say goodbye is becoming increasingly difficult.

"I'm going to miss you, Daniel!" Kira cries. Her eyes fill once again with tears, and I wish more than anything that I could give her a hug.

"_Talk to Jack, Kira,"_ I manage to whisper before I disappear completely.

I return to **Here**, content that I had just done something very, very good.

* * *

It is Cassie that shows me the Ascension loop hole. 

One moment I'm one with the Cosmos, enjoying all the knowledge available before me, happy and content in my existence as an Ascended being. I was not thinking about the SGC, or any of the friends I left behind. I know I wasn't. But then, without warning, I'm suddenly standing in Janet Fraiser's kitchen, watching in horror as Cassandra Fraiser topples from a countertop and knocks herself unconscious.

I don't actually see her climb the kitchen counter in order to reach the spare light bulbs, but I know that was what she was doing. Just as I "know" she had lost her grip on the shelf due to a leaky bottle of olive oil. I appear just nanomoments after her fingertips lose contact with the shelf and she falls, hitting her head with a loud crack against the side of the sink. She cries out and is still.

Normally, I would be terrified that such a fall might have resulted in a serious injury, but I "know" that she's going to be okay. It isn't that I'm omnipotent, because I'm certain I'm not - but at the same time, there are still some things I just _know_. Cassie is going to be just fine; a nasty concussion perhaps, but as long as she doesn't lose consciousness, she will recover. I just needed to keep her awake until help arrives.

I really need to keep her awake.

"_Cassie_," I say loudly, as I take a step forward and kneel beside her. I might have difficulties maintaining a corporeal form at the SGC, but right now I'm not having any problems. Or maybe I am, but I'm just too worried about Cass to think about it. "_Cassandra,_" I repeat a bit louder, really wishing I could give her a little shake, "_you need to wake up_."

"Daan-il?" she whispers, eyes scrunched tightly in pain.

_"I'm here, Cass. I know it hurts, but I need you to stay awake for me, okay?_"

"Yer dead," Cass whispers again, clearly not believing that I'm actually here. Although, I guess if I were to think about it, I guess I'm not – more like an interactive ghost.

"_Not dead, ascended_," I explain as if she might understand the distinction.

"Missss yooouu," Cassie sighs, slipping back into a brain-injured sleep.

"_Cassandra_," I say sharply into her ear. "_Wake up_!"

"Daniel?" She opens her eyes slightly to try and see me, and cries out in pain as her senses overload in the late afternoon light. She quickly closes them again and begins to cry. My heart clenches at the sound, but I take comfort in knowing that, at least for the moment, she isn't in danger of falling back to sleep. Now I just need to get her some help.

"_Cass, I know it hurts, but I need you to do something for me._"

"Tired..." Cassie begins, slurring a bit again on the end of the word.

"_I know you are honey, but you need to call your mom for me_." I wish like anything that I could do it for her.

"Mom..?"

"_Yes, Cass_," I say, lowering my voice in volume to prevent her any undue pain. "_Call your mom. Your cell phone is in your right pocket_." Thankfully, Cass had landed on her left side, so her phone was undamaged and readily accessible.

"Daniel," Cassie mutters again as she begins to drift back to sleep. "..miss you, dan-iel..."

"_Cassie, you can't fall asleep_!" I say sharply. "_Call your mom_."

"Mom..?"

"_Yes, Cass, call your mom_." If I had had breath to hold, I would be doing so right now. I watch as Cassie begins to move her right arm slowly towards her pocket. Painfully, she reaches inside and grasps the small black object. Never before had I been so thankful for the creation of the cell phone. Cassie flips it open, brings the phone slowly up to her chest and then...stops.

"_Your mom, Cass_," I urge. "_Call your mom. Tell her you fell and hit your head. Tell her you need help._"

"Daniel?" I hear fear and confusion in her voice.

"_Call your mom_," I repeat. With painstakingly slow movements, I watch as Cass brings the phone up to her face and carefully opens her eyes just a fraction to see the keys. She lets out a small sound of pain at the light, but succeeds in pressing "2". Using first her throat and then her neck, Cass pulls the phone up towards her ear. I can tell by her body language, that the sound of the ring tone is excruciating; I wish I could do more to help her! All I can do is will the person on the other end to pick up the phone. I think if Janet were anywhere but the SGC, I just might have been able to "pop over" and see what she was doing. I probably wouldn't be able to do anything to get her to the phone, but I would at least know if I needed to get Cassie to dial someone else. I have no idea if it would work, but I "feel" like I have the ability to go anywhere.

Except the SGC. I refuse to feel frustrated, and concentrate on Cassie.

"Fraiser," Janet answers crisply into the phone. I'm thankful, if a little surprised to discover that she is in her office. Guess SG-1 is away on a mission. Or maybe she just has plenty of free time now that I'm...not there.

"Mo-om," Cassie whispers tearfully into the phone.

"Cass?" Janet must be hearing the pain in Cassie's voice, for instantly she changes her tone from concerned to worried. "Honey, you don't sound okay, are you all right?"

"Fell," Cass explains, beginning to cry in earnest. "...hit my head." There is a noticeable pause, and through Cassie's phone, I hear background voices from Janet's office – I'm guessing she is signaling others for help, maybe getting someone to dial 911. "I'm tired, mom..." I notice Cassie's fingers loosening their grip on her phone.

"_Stay awake_!" Both Janet and I order at the same time. Cassie jerks with the sound of our voices and I see her fist tightening once again on the telephone.

"Cass, baby, I need for you to stay awake, okay? It's really important that you stay awake and talk to me." Janet is using her best 'you've been seriously injured, but I'm here and you're going to make it' voice.

"..sound like daniel," Cassie mutters, sounding a slighty annoyed. This makes me smile. If two adults telling her what to do is enough to irritate her, then I'm certain Cassie is going to be all right.

"Daniel?" Janet asks, sounding even more worried. Concussion victims might forget things, but they usually don't hear voices from people who aren't actually there.

Except I really am.

"Dan'l won' lemme sleep either," Cassie complains.

"You listen to Daniel, honey," Janet answers in a dulcet voice, clearly humoring her daughter. I'm certain she is thinking that she would worry about Cass' hallucinations later, the most important thing to do right now was keep her awake.

"...coming home?"

"I'm on my way to you right now, Cassandra," Janet says. "I'm going to stay with you on the phone until help arrives, and then I'll meet you at the hospital okay?"

"...not home?" Cassie clearly doesn't understand that she has had a serious fall and needs to be in an Emergency Room.

"You need a doctor, honey," Janet says.

"...you doc."

"You need a doctor immediately, Cassandra," Janet explains. "It'll take me at least thirty minutes to get to you, and you need to be treated right away."

"...tired." I can hear the bone-weary tiredness in Cassie's voice and knew she was holding on to consciousness by a thin thread. I hope the ambulance will be here soon.

"I know, baby," Janet says tenderly. "You can rest soon, okay? But please try and stay awake for me..."

"'n Daniel," Cassie adds.

"And Daniel," Janet agrees. "Stay awake for me and Daniel, okay?"

"'k." Seconds tick by as Cassie begins to slip back asleep. I'm about to call out her name again, when Janet beats me to it.

"Cassie!" Cass' hand twitches on the phone.

"..'m tired, mom."

"Just a little bit longer, baby." I wish Janet was here to see what I was seeing; Cassie didn't have a little bit longer. I hadn't even figured out what I was going to do next if Cassie fell asleep, when I hear the sounds of an ambulance.

"_Ambulance, Cassie_," I whisper.

"What did you say Cassie?" Janet asks. I know she must have overheard something, but I'm really hoping she doesn't recognize my voice.

"...mbulance."

The siren grows louder, and I mentally let out a sigh of relief as professional help arrives.

"_They're here, Cass_," I whisper again. "_You did a great job at staying awake_." The siren abruptly stops and I hear the sounds of doors opening.

"...daniel says I d'good.." Cassie mumbles into the phone.

"Daniel's right baby, you did great. Let the EMTs help you and I'll meet you at the hospital."

"k." Outside, I hear the crunching of the gravel as the emergency workers approach. It's time for me to leave.

"_I have to go now, Cass_," I whisper into Cassie's ear. I see Cassie nod slightly and am glad her eyes are still closed. After all this is over, maybe she'll just think this was all a dream.

"...m' miss you."

"_I'm going to miss you too, Cass_." I try to reach down and brush my fingertips across her forehead, but it doesn't work. I feel momentarily sad, as I hear the EMT workers open the front door and then...

And then I'm back **Here**.

* * *

Time passes. 

I realize that I am enjoying Ascension. I really am.

I learn that it's perfectly okay to keep subtle tabs on my friends, as long as I don't do it overtly. I also learn that it's purely instinctual for me to go to their aid if they are in serious danger, and that I'm not stopped as long as I don't interfere with the natural order or outcome of events.

I am occasionally stopped for stepping over the line, but I do and will continue to try. Oma says that in time I will stop needing to visit, but I don't really believe it. I can't imagine leaving all my friends permanently.

Oma says I will learn.

I do learn.

I learn that if I become lighter than air itself, I can, every now and then, visit the SGC. I learn that the bonds that prevented me from visiting in Corporeal form, don't necessarily apply to the non-corporeal. I'm particularly fond of "haunting" the elevator shaft between Level 27 and 28. Here, I can "see" and listen to my friends without making my presence known.

On occasion, I might be a little more overt.

I watch as SG-1 (minus me) runs into General Hammond near the elevator. They seem relaxed, happy to have rescued Thor and kicked a little Goa'uld butt.

I take a breath and blow.

"What was that?" Sam asks, as she stops in her tracks. Teal'c stops as well and looks around.

"Perhaps a malfunction in the ventilation shaft?"

"Yeah, that's probably it," Jack replies to Teal'c, not looking like he quite believes it himself. I see the look in Jack's eye; I think he's guessing that it was me! Sam turns back towards General Hammond.

"Bye, sir, have a good night." Together, my former teammates walk towards the elevator. I watch as first Sam and then Teal'c walk inside.

I can't resist.

Right before Jack joins them, I concentrate with all my might and produce the biggest gust of air that I can. Jack's hair goes willy-nilly and he enters the elevator with a huge smile on his face.

I'm going to like Ascension just fine.

* * *

**More Authors' Notes**: Now before you all email me to tell me that I have the chronology all wrong, remember, I did say that time is funny for an Ascended being. We really don't know all the nuts and bolts of being Ascended, so I thought I'd play with it a little. Creative license! ;). Thanks to Wiki's Stargate transcripts for the Meridian assistance, and www (dot) kn (dot) pacbell(dot)com (slash) wired (slash) China (slash) proverb(dot)html for the Chinese proverbs. Additional thanks to Julia for reading early drafts and offering advice. _Please_ let me know what you thought of this! I know this story was written in an unorthodox voice. My next story will feature Kira in a _solid_ (no more "pre") Season 6 tale. 

Written April 17, 2006


	5. Truth is Stranger than Fiction

**Title:** The Assistant 05 - Truth is Stranger Than Fiction  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6 (really!)  
**Related Episodes :** Barista 5; 112 - Fire and Water; 601 - Redemption Pt 1 ; 602 - Redemption Pt 2  
**Summary:** Kira survives her first SGC emergency...and her first meeting with McKay.

**Notes: **This one is just a good old fashioned Barista-style romp. I know many of you have been waiting for this, but I just couldn't plop Kira down into the middle of the SGC without creating a bit of a backstory. I think you'll like this one! Many, many thanks to Julia for her beta finesse and suggestions!

* * *

I've always known I'm a bit of a nerd. I've also been aware that I'm slightly eccentric. But I think I've stooped to new lows - even for me. I'm currently at Kinkos making a copy of my very first paycheck. 

"You are such a geek!" Stefan says, leaning against the copy machine.

"I prefer nerd," I reply primly, hitting the copy button. "And come on, this is not only the largest paycheck I've ever received in my life, but it's my first real one." I pick up the copy and once again look at all the pretty numbers. I'm not particularly materialistic, but I just can't help but think of everything I can do with all this money. Heck, if I put most of this into savings, I should be able to put a down payment on a condo or something by the end of the year. Whoa. That's certainly not something I ever considered before. I feel Stefan staring at me and realize that several seconds have passed without my saying a word. Oops.

"All I'm saying," I continue, trying to pick up the conversation thread. "Is that I bet you'd do the same." I withdraw the weird block-like contraption from the copy machine and reset the machine for the next person.

"That would be a bet you'd lose," Stefan chuckles as he shakes his head. "And I don't know about you, but _I've_ been receiving steady paychecks from Victor for years now."

"I know that, but it isn't the same, you know?" I fold the copy over so the cashier can't read it and head up to the register to pay.

"Hey, at least with tips, we can fudge a little on our income taxes - you're going to be put into a higher bracket you know."

"I am?"

"Oh definitely," Stefan says nodding. "At least on par with Bill Gates." I give him a good smack on the chest.

"Somehow I doubt that." I reach the head of the line and hand over the copier key so they can see that I only made a single copy. I pay my nine cents and head towards the door.

"Kira?" Stefan calls out, stopping me right before I exit. I turn around and see him grinning ear to ear.

"Yeah?"

"I know you're in a hurry to start a 401K and all that, but you might want to grab the actual paycheck before you go." He continues to give me that cheeky grin of his as he points towards the copy machine. My face turns a deep, deep shade of red as I gasp, and walk quickly towards the machine I was just on. I hold my breath as I open the cover. I don't think anyone was here after me, but you never know. Thankfully, my check is still there. God, I'm such an idiot! I remove my happiness maker and place it in my handbag before I do something even more stupid with it.

"Thanks," I mumble as we walk outside into the bright sunshine.

"That's what I'm here for," Stefan replies, chuckling. "It's like I said," he continues as we head towards his car. He pauses for a moment to open my front door.

"You're a geek."

* * *

I can't say I have a true routine yet, but I am slowly getting a hang of things. I'm working under Dr. Roy Edwards, a brilliant linguist from Cambridge who transferred to the SGC just the year before. No one at the SGC can speak as many languages as Daniel, but Dr. Edwards comes in a close second for reading comprehension and recognition. Unlike most of the other scientists on my floor, Dr. Edwards is strictly a linguist. He has yet to go off world, for his expertise lies in language research and classification. Surprisingly, there are quite a few scientists around here who are thrilled to do the research, but aren't really interested in going off world. This really floored me. Part of me wishes I worked with Nyan and Dr. Balinsky, as they both go on missions with SG-13 fairly regularly. The fact that Dr. Balinsky is cute is just an added bonus. 

I've also met Dr. Lee, who made me laugh by telling me a story about a dig he went on with Daniel back in the early 90s. I guess Daniel and Dr. Lee have known each other for years. Dr. Lee is another one of those "multi-tasking" scientists; his doctorates are in Anthropology and Physics (which is a strange combination even for the SGC ). I like Dr. Lee a lot. He's actually the one who gave all us "soft scientists" our nickname. Dr. Lee was getting tired of saying "Anthropology, Linguistics and Archaeology", so he shortened it to ALA . But rather than call it by its letters (which incidentally is the abbreviation for the American Library Association), he decided to just run it all together to form a single word: we're now known as "Allah".

I'm not the youngest scientist here (Lt. Haley gets that distinction), but I am the youngest _civilian _scientist. There isn't a single person on this floor who doesn't have at least one doctorate. I'm woefully undereducated for this and I think there are more than a few others who resent my being here. I mean, it isn't like I'm a _threat_ to them or anything, but there are those who wonder how the heck I got this job.

Thankfully, Dr. Edwards isn't one of them. He is rather "old school" in his approach to languages and how they should be organized for research is fascinating. He worships this 1930s librarian and information scientist by the name of S.R. Ranganathan. Ranganathan was an eminent librarian in India and came up with a new way of looking at classification schemas. He believed that the traditional Library of Congress subject headings weren't flexible enough for all the different subjects out there, and designed a new system using faceted classification. Faceted classification is pretty much the reason why the SGC can successfully find anything in their databases. Well, in theory anyhow, there are still a few bugs in the system. The key is to create a variety of "subject" categories that will enable users to cross reference say the Asgard, a piece of alien technology, and a trade dispute on P3X-412. It sounds simple, but there's a heck of a lot of work that goes into it.

Dr. Edwards is working on syntax and how the system will handle "foreign" languages with completely different scripts and fonts. I'm working more with coming up with words associated with offworld cultures and their religions. It is incredibly fascinating and as a by-product of being able to read old mission reports, I'm able to learn a heck of a lot about the history of worlds I didn't even know exist. I am even starting to get the occasional research question! The best part is that every now and then I get to read about an SG-1 mission. These I tend to savor, and will hole up in the base library or a corner of the commissary to read.

The last report I read had to do with a mission SG-1 was on over five years ago. I was given the file in order to find out all I could about a race of beings called the Oannes. It was color-coded as an SG-1 mission (red of course), but I had no idea what I was going to find. Imagine my surprise when I read about a mission where everyone believed Daniel had _died_. Jack had written his report after they had gotten Daniel back, but it was obviously that he was still shaken up about the series of events. Daniel had had a bad time of it afterwards and had even managed to "escape" the infirmary. I know I gasped aloud when I read in Dr. Fraiser's words, how they had found Daniel at a coffee shop in central Colorado Springs . Jack had written something along the lines that he had been called by the shop's "quick-thinking" barista. I realized at that moment that this was the day I first met Sam and Dr. Janet. This was also the day when my relationship with Daniel had changed and he became something more than another quirky (yet cute!) patron. For me, this was the day Daniel became a person I really cared about. He became my friend.

I really wished I could copy this file for myself. I also know for a fact that if Stefan could have heard my thoughts he would have laughed his butt off.

* * *

I am so absorbed in my work, that I don't even hear him come in. Of course, he being Jack O'Neill with his ever impressive stealth skills, I don't feel too bad. 

"Hey," Jack greets, leaning against my doorway. Well, _the_ doorway really. I'm way too far down on the food chain to merit my own office quite yet.

"Hi Jack!" I put down my file on SG-9s mission to P4X-623 and flash him a smile. "I heard you came back early." I eye Jack's right leg critically. It might be my imagination, but I think I can see the outline of an ace bandage. "How's the knee?" Jack shrugs.

"Partially torn ligament - I'll be fine."

"So how many are you up to now?" Jack rolls his eyes. We both know I'm not talking about ligaments.

"Nine," he replies nonchalantly. "But I don't know if you should count Captain Mathison. He really didn't last too long." I nod in agreement.

"You heading out again soon?" I try to sound nonchalant. I can't help it; I miss Jack when he's not here. Maybe it's normal for SG-1 to go offworld three or four times a week, but judging from how often I supplied Daniel with his coffee, I think once or twice a week was more the norm. I think they (especially Jack) are volunteering for more missions in order to avoid the SGC and I don't think it's because of the paperwork. All I know is that I miss them when they're not here, and I know I'm not the only one. It doesn't take a genius to see that Jack and his team make up a very real nexus here at the SGC . Sam is the head of the "hard" scientists, Teal'c trains most of the new recruits on both weapons and hand to hand combat, and Jack is the second in command of the entire base! Everyone respects the heck out of these guys. And we all acutely feel their absence when they're not here.

"We're on downtime while my knee heals," Jack continues, interrupting me out of my thoughts. "Which reminds me...," Jack pauses as he turns around and bends down to pick something up on the other side of the door. "This is for you." He holds out an old fashioned Russian samovar; a samovar overflowing with an exceedingly healthy-looking leafy green philodendron.

"Jack!" I'm pretty much beaming ear-to-ear as I take the hefty plant from him. "Thank you!"

"It's a much-belated welcome to the SGC gift," Jack begins. "I wanted to bring it by earlier, but we've been offworld much of the time..." I hold up a hand to stop him.

"Jack it's beautiful." I place the plant down on my half of the desk and then walk back over to him. I stand on my tip toes and give him a small peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," Jack replies looking a little embarrassed at my appreciation. "Sam, helped me pick it out. Apparently, philodendrons are quite content to live in low-light and they're very hard to kill."

"Are you saying I'm a bad botanist, Jack?" I tease.

"No, no- nothing like that," Jack answers quickly. I'd say a little too quickly, but he can't possible know how poor I am with houseplants. Unless of course that security background check is waaay more detailed than I thought. "I just didn't want you to be worried about the lack of light." He gives me a knowing look. "And you're now working with the eggheads down here, so I'm guessing you're going to spend entire weeks working from dawn to dusk without even glancing at this poor thing."

"Hey!" I try to sound super offended, but the truth is, that's a very real possibility.

"I'm just saying..." Jack's voice trails off as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He does this a lot when there isn't anything in reach to grab or fiddle with. I think Jack's a little ADHD. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to head on up and meet with General Hammond."

"Is it about replacing Daniel?" Jack looks sad for a moment, and then nods.

"Yeah, probably."

"Do you have to replace him?" I ask, thinking how quickly they've been going through replacements. "I mean, does there have to be four people on SG-1?" It isn't just the fact that they're having problems finding a fourth that is making me ask. I can't help it; I don't want anyone replacing Daniel. No one can replace Daniel. Ever.

"There's nothing in the regs that says there has to...but we probably should be a four-person team. Four is a good number for a team - safer." I just nod. I bite my lip slightly as I consider my next words.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you're meeting with the General now, and I know you're going to be heading off world soon, but if you have a chance once you get back..."

"Just spit it out, Kira," Jack says kindly.

"When you get back, can you tell me exactly how Daniel died?"

Silence.

"I mean, I know he's gone, but there are a lot of rumors surrounding how he died, and I don't have any work-related reason to read that report, but..."

"I'll tell you Kira," Jack says finally. "You of all people deserve to know the truth."

"Colonel O'Neill, please report to General Hammond's Office. Colonel O'Neill to General Hammond's office."

"I take it that's you?"

"Unless the other Colonel O'Neil decided to pay us a visit, this one is probably for me."

"There's more than one of you?" I ask incredulously. "I thought you broke the mold?"

"Oh, ha ha," Jack replies, shooting me a dirty look. "No relation, but yeah, there are actually two of me." He pauses in the doorway. "Well, two Colonel O'Neills that is. He spells his name with one L..." Jack's voice trails off as he realizes that he's rambling.

"Anyhow, unless I'm busy saving the planet or something, why don't we meet at Victor's next Monday and I'll fill you in on the details surrounding Daniel's..." he pauses searching for the right word. "I'll tell you all I can about Daniel's final mission."

"That would be great, Jack. But is it safe...?" Jack gives me a small smile and then nods his head in approval.

"Good. You're thinking about security. You continue to impress me, Kira Meyers," Jack says seriously. I look at my feet and try not to blush. "It is true that you now know some pretty top secret stuff, Kira," Jack says continuing, "but that doesn't mean you can't talk about it at _all_. It's perfectly okay to grab a cup of coffee and then go for a walk with someone from the SGC . Heck, we might even sit on a park bench!" Now it's my turn to smile. "As long as we're not openly conversing about national security matters in a public facility, I think we'll be fine." He gives me a depreciative shrug. "Besides, you'll be with me." I smile.

"I'll see you on Monday then."

"Colonel O'Neill, please report..."

"Gotta go," Jack says as he exits my office and limps his way towards level 28.

I'm both dreading and looking forward to next Monday.

* * *

My day is almost over when I find myself smack in the middle of my first SGC emergency. I heard the announcement about an unauthorized wormhole, but didn't think too much of it - we seem to get one or two of these a week. However, this time a wormhole came in and...didn't leave. General Hammond announced that there was a "situation", and by the tone of his voice, it was a serious one. I guess having one end of a wormhole continually at your front door is pretty bad. The General gave permission for anyone not currently engaged in the "wormhole situation" to head on home. I considered it, but not knowing what was going on here would probably be worse. I stayed put. 

The wormhole has been engaged for over two hours and I was beginning to get worried. I knew Jack and Sam had gone to Area 51 to try and contact the Asgard (there really **are** little gray aliens out there!) for help, but I also heard it hadn't worked and everyone was getting really anxious for answers. Non-essential personnel (and this meant pretty much everyone) are restricted from Level 28 entirely, and most of the physicists and "hard scientists" were upstairs on level 21 trying to brainstorm some possible solutions. Those of us who didn't have the common sense to go home when we could were recruited to upload various files and documents to a secure, _offsite _server. It seems there was a very real possibility that the gate might blow up. I might have regretted not going home when I could, but if the gate truly blew, it would probably take the entire mountain and most of Colorado as well so my choices are pretty much six of one, a half dozen of the other. I'm on automatic pilot uploading document 221523 to the server known as "Gandolf" when the lights go out.

"Shit," I say softly, as I reach under my desk for the emergency flashlight. I had just managed to make it out to the hall when I hear the emergency generators kick in and the lights come back on. There is a flurry of activity as people run to and fro - obviously something major has happened in the Gateroom. I'm as curious as the next gal, but I also know I have no reason to be up there, so I decide to try and find the answers out another way. I made my way to the elevator and push "19".

* * *

"Can you tell me anything, Chloe?" I ask, taking a bite of day old chocolate cake. Jack was right; they really did do good cake here. I feel a little bit guilty about grabbing Chloe from her lab on the 19 th floor and dragging her into the Commissary, but both of us are very junior workers and it isn't like our presence is needed. Well, Chloe's perhaps, but certainly not mine. 

"Without using math?" Chloe asks seriously. I try not to roll my eyes. I really like Chloe, but she can be rather...odd. I need to take this girl out for a beer or something.

"That would be preferred."

"Dr. Felger believes..."

"He's the guy you're working under, right?" I ask, taking another bite of cake. "That brilliant physicist you were talking about a couple weeks ago?" Chloe nods and then ducks her head. Oh man! She's blushing.

"Spill," I order, waving my fork at her.

"He's cute."

"Dr. Felger!" Chloe looks like she wants to muzzle me. I lower my voice. "Dr. Felger?" I repeat. Chloe nods.

"There's just something about him," she begins as her eyes get that moony far away look. As interested as I am in the guy who has Chloe's heart (or at least brain), what I really want to know is what's going on with the wormhole.

"Chloe, next week you and I are headed to my place where you can tell me all about Dr. Felger, but right now I want to know all about the wormhole." Chloe looks a little embarrassed, but nods.

"They've gathered a whole bunch of the astrophysicists into the briefing room," Chloe begins. "You know, the room where we first met everyone on the first day?" I nod and encourage Chloe to continue. "Well, everyone is talking and trying to come up with a solution, but no one, including Dr. Felger can quite come up with a solution that'll work. I mean for sure. Theoretically, Jay's idea..."

"Chloe."

"Right. Sorry, Kira." Chloe takes a sip of her coffee and continues. "Well, nothing was working until this Russian scientist..."

"We have Russian scientists on base?" We do have a smattering of foreign scientists, but I hadn't heard of one from Russia .

"Well, actually I think he's Canadian, but he's _working _with the Russians," Chloe clarifies. Kind of. "Dr. Mc Kay came up with an idea of sending a massive EM pulse back _through _the wormhole in hopes of disabling whatever it is on the other side that's sustaining the wormhole.

"That sounds pretty dangerous." Chloe nods her head in agreement. "It is! Dr. Carter thinks it's too dangerous, but since we don't have any other ideas right now..."

"They're going to try the pulse," I finish for her. Chloe nods and looks worried. I am too.

* * *

SGC gossip is truly amazing. I think I heard about Sam's accident less than twenty minutes after it happened. Stupid Russian-Canadian and his stupid ideas! I don't know Sam as well as Jack, but I still wanted to check on her and make sure she's okay. I take the elevator to Level 21 and walk briskly towards the infirmary. I'm about to round the corner outside the main entrance, when I'm knocked flat on my butt by a guy walking out of the entrance while mumbling something to himself about pianos. 

"Hey!" I exclaim, completely stunned that I've just been run into hard enough to knock me down. "Watch where you're going!" The man stops and looks down at me.

"What are you doing down there?" I look up at him in complete amazement.

"You knocked me down."

"No, I believe it was _you_ who ran into _me. _You should watch where you're going. I'm a pretty important guy around here." I continue to stare up at him. Who _is _this guy! Before I can think of a suitable retort, I realize that he's staring at me. _Really _staring at me. Oh my God! The guy runs me over with his body and is now taking another couple of seconds to check me out with his eyes? What a creep!

"Cute, but not my type," he informs me, as he reaches down to help me up. I debate between the pros and cons of slapping his hand away, but decide it might not do my career any good to pick a fight.

"Well, you're not _my _type either, I reply indignantly, grabbing his hand and getting back on my feet. He actually is a little cute, but I'm certainly not going to tell him that.

"Is it safe to go inside, or is your twin brother going to get me on the other side?"

"And sassy. I like that." I try to take my hand back, and it takes two first jerks before I'm free.

"I don't even know you, but you're completely weirding me out."

"Funny, Sam said something really similar. Must be my magnetic personality." I want to retort that having women tell you that you're freaking them out is usually not a good thing, but I instantly glom on to the word 'Sam'.

"You saw Sam? Is she okay? I heard some jerk scientist tried to kill her." Belatedly, I realize that _he _was probably the jerk scientist. Oops. "Uh, accidentally, that is." I look at least a little abashed. "I take it you're the Russian-Canadian?"

"Russian-Canadian? Where do they come up with these things?" He gives me a disgusted look. "The name is McKay. Doctor. Dr Rodney McKay. Astrophysicist. Canadian. Not Russian. Canadian." He sounds out Canadian slowly as if it were a country I've never heard of. Pompous ass.

"Sorry." _Sorry_! I can't believe I've just apologized to this guy." Look Dr. McKay, I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but _you _ran into _me._ All I want to do is check on Sam and then get back to work."

"And I'm sure your work is ever so important. Not like myself, of course. I'm just trying to save the planet from a horrible, all consuming destruction. And you? Where do you work?" I know whatever I say won't be good enough, but I really should have taken that extra split second before replying. I should have said, "In the Anthropology, Linguistics and Archaeology division. But no. That's not what I had to go and say.

"With Allah." McKay blinks once and looks at me as if I were crazy. Really, really crazy.

"Cute," he says finally shaking a finger at me. "But I'm also not into religious fruitcakes."

And with that Dr. Rodney McKay walks away.

* * *

"You will _not _believe my day at work," I say to Stefan as I flop down on his couch, open pint of Ben and Jerry's in my hand. 

"Anything you can share?" Stefan asks lightly. God, I love this man! If he were straight, I seriously would be calling a wedding planner right now. He knows I work with some super secret stuff, but he doesn't pry. He also doesn't get all indignant when I say bonehead things like, "You will not believe my day at work", forgetting that I actually can't tell him the good parts.

"Chloe has a crush," I begin, taking a heavenly bite of my Chunky Monkey ice cream.

"Does she still dress like an extra in 9-5?" I laugh out loud, spraying bits of chocolate across the room.

"Stefan!"

"Hey, you're the one with the eating problem, not me." I wipe both my mouth and the end table.

"Chloe pretty much wears white lab coats these days."

"Probably for the best."

"Probably," I agree nodding. "She still likes cherry-red lipstick though."

"I like cherry-red lipstick," Stefan says with a leer.

"I don't want to know." I shake my head and smile. Before Stefan can say anything else, I quickly take another bite of my ice cream.

"I'm sure you can think of something else you can share," Stefan says, nudging my shoulder with his own. I take a moment and think about it. Should I? Ah, what the heck - it worked for Daniel.

"We almost blew up the entire state of Colorado," I offer.

"Really?" Stefan asks in that tone of voice that tells me he seriously isn't buying any of it. Oh my God, it worked. Stefan really doesn't believe me! This is great! It's just like when Daniel told me he was kidnapped by aliens - the truth is stranger than fiction.

"Yep," I say nodding. "Would have been a really, really big explosion." I hold my arms out as far as they can go. "Really big."

"Good thing you stopped it." I want to tell him it wasn't me. That actually it took sending the Stargate into space and through a hyperspace window to save the planet. But that might be a little too specific. Perhaps it's best to reel this conversation back to something a little more grounded.

"Have I told you about Allah...?"

* * *

**Notes:** Well? Did that satisfy all those who missed the old-style musings of the Barista tales? Did you laugh? Gaffah even? I'm not sure if I captured Rodney quite right, but I sure did try! I do hope I didn't offend anyone with the "Allah" acronym - it was just too perfect not to use. The Barista story that Kira is recalling is an oldie, Barista 5 - Hospital Scrubs. 

S.R. Ranganathan was a real librarian and information scientist from the 1930s. I might have hate...er disliked the class I took on library classification systems, but the articles I read on Ranganathan obviously stuck in my head. ;)

**Definitions:** A samovar is just a really big tea urn. You can see a picture (and read all about it) on Google.

ADHD - Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

"Six of one, a half dozen of the other" - This is an English idiom that just means there isn't really much choice - both are the same thing.

Ben and Jerry's - Brand of gourmet ice cream.

Written May 4, 2006


	6. Jinx

**Title:** The Assistant 06 - Jinx  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6  
**Related Episode(s):** Barista 7 - Small World; 604 - Frozen  
**Summary:** Jack and Kira discover why it's really never a good idea to talk in libraries.

**Notes: **Sorry for the delay on this one, but at least it's another long one!

* * *

Once again, I'm so absorbed in my reading that I never even hear him enter. I'd like to blame it all on the riveting literature, but the fact is I've always had the propensity to lose myself in a good book - even if it's a dry science article. I guess it's for the best that I never joined the military. I can just see myself on an SG field team, translating some amazing artifact that holds the answer to all life as we know it…and then getting shot in the back because I never hear the bad guys come in.

"Hi Kira!" Jack says, causing me to jump. That man sure has a way with stealth. "I thought I'd find you here."

"Hi, Jack," I reply, looking up from my pile of books, determined not to let him know that he once again caught me completely by surprise. I think this is starting to become a game with him. Great. "What brings you up to the SGC's inner sanctum?"

"Inner sanctum?" Jack asks, looking around the well-lit room. "Shouldn't that be the General's office? Or someplace a little more…" he struggles to find the right word. "Down?"

"Nahh," I reply, shaking my head. "Everyone knows where General Hammond's office is, and usually inner sancta are secret places." Jack arches an eyebrow in question. I'm positive he's going to make a comment about 'sancta' sounding like instant coffee, but every now and then he surprises me.

"And the base library is secret?" Before I can reply, Judie, the base librarian beats me to it.

"Now Colonel O'Neill, you know we only recently moved up here…"

"Judith! You're back!" Jack takes several large strides and envelopes the petite older woman in a large hug. "How are Kelley and the twins?" Judie gives Jack one of those beatific smiles that can only come from first-time grandmothers.

"Both mother and daughters are doing splendid!" Judie gushes. "You don't forget anything, do you Jack?"

"I'm actually pretty poor at birthdays," Jack deadpans. Judie just smiles and shakes her head.

"Seriously," Jack insists. "Just ask Carter. I completely forgot all about T's century celebration a couple of years ago." _Teal'c is over a hundred! _

"You mean the surprise party held in your back yard?" Judie teases. "The one where you personally called up each and every department head on the base, reminding them to make sure and let their employees know? Jack looks a little abashed, but still manages to shrug nonchalantly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and swiftly changes the subject.

"So whatcha working on?" Jack asks, glancing down at all my open books. Judie chuckles.

"I have to get back to cataloging," Judie says. "Colonel O'Neill, it was great seeing you!"

"What's with the Colonel?" Jack asks, trying to look grievously offended.

"It is to remind you that this _is _a library, so you shouldn't stay and distract Ms. Meyers longer than necessary."

"I don't distract people," Jack mumbles. I just look up at him and grin.

"So what brings you to the library, Jack?" I ask.

"Just visiting," Jack replies, picking up a random book and eyeing the spine (Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire).

"Major Carter kicked you out of her lab again, didn't she?" I try not to sound smug, but I'm fairly certain a little smugness is leaking out. After all, this time I know I'm right. I had lunch with Sam a few weeks ago and she admitted that sometimes Jack O'Neill tends…to hover. In the beginning it felt good having a superior officer who was interested in her work, but all too quickly she learned that, for the most part, Jack only visited when he was either worried about something or someone, or when he was bored. And apparently, he gets bored a lot. She and Daniel used to run interference for one another, but lately… Naturally, I told her that the next time Jack overstayed his welcome; she should just send him to me.

This is his fourth visit in two weeks.

"Carter did _not _kick me out of her lab," Jack huffs. I think the Colonel doth protesteth too much.

"Bet she did," I reply back in a sing-song voice.

Did not," Jack insists.

"Did too."

"Not."

"Too." I'm about to reply (I couldn't let him win after all), when suddenly one of the light bulbs in the back of the room bursts. Jack and I immediately shut up as we stare at the exploded shards. I'm sure it's my imagination, but I swear I just felt a warm breeze across my neck.

"Well, would you look at that!" Judie announces, as she comes out from behind the stacks to check out the damage.

"It must have been an electrical surge," I say aloud. I'm not sure if I'm saying this for Judie's benefit or my own.

"You're probably right Kira," Judie agrees, nodding. "I'll go see what I can find to clean up the mess. Can you keep an eye on the library for me?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll just be a few minutes." Judie walks out through doorway closest to the stairwell. I think she's going to look for a nice young cadet to help her out. Judie likes to surprise people by popping out of the emergency doorway. Not only do most people use the elevators, but hardly anyone is up here on Level 17, so the surprise factor is high. Jack and I are left alone in the silent library.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think..?" I begin slowly. Jack nods his head slowly up and down, his eyes never leaving the remains of the poor light bulb.

"Absolutely," Jack says with conviction. My eyes widen in amazement. I know I asked the question, but I never really thought Jack would understand, let alone _agree _with me. Wow. I shake my head and tell myself to stop being silly. Accidents happen all the time – even exploding light bulbs. Just because I now know that Daniel has _ascended _rather than _died _doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly discover that he's haunting the SGC.

Does it?

While I am glad that I now know the truth of how Daniel…left, I still haven't quite come to terms with how I should act around Jonas. Maybe it wasn't death in the _traditional _sense, but it isn't like he's still here with us. I feel that breeze again and look around the room. Or is he? What if that really was Daniel who visited me on the swings back in July? Maybe Daniel's more like a ghost or guardian angel? What if he's _here? _I really wish there was a book or something to help me figure this all out. Right Kira. Like you're going to find "Understanding your Ascended Loved Ones" on Amazon.

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I it takes me a moment to realize that someone is clearing his throat - and it isn't Jack. We both turn quickly around and I do my best to stifle the inadvertent gasp as I recognize the newcomer. I'm certain I have G U I L T written all over my face. Not that I've done anything wrong mind you, but I know how this must look.

"Can I help you with something Dr. Drexel?" Jack asks without missing a beat. I can't believe Jack remembered his name! I'm so amazed at Jack's memory that I almost forget about Ryan. Almost. I wonder how long he's been standing in the doorway, and how much he overheard. I know Ryan has always been a little curious (that is, suspicious) of my easy friendships with many of the SGC personnel, but to witness Jack and me bickering (and in a "Jack and Daniel" sort of way), well, this doesn't bode well for my goal of never becoming SGC gossip fodder.

"I came to see the librarian," Ryan answers stiffly. He glances in my direction and frowns. "I see she isn't here."

"Nope," Jack answers cheerfully. "Judith had to step away from her desk for a few minutes. I'm sure she'll be back soon." He pauses a moment to think about it. "Actually, she might be longer than that. You should probably just head back to your lab. I suggest sending her an email."

"An email?" Ryan repeats, obviously not at all thrilled with the idea.

"Right. An email!" Jack explains with enthusiasm. "You know, that nifty way of communicating over computers. You should try it." I barely resist groaning out loud. Jack! You shouldn't goad the man! I can see the gears shifting in Ryan's mind as he quickly evaluates the best way to reply. Thank God Jack's a Colonel, and the base 2IC. For all of Ryan's faults (and to be fair, I just know he rubs me the wrong way and have no idea why), he is one of the few scientists who instinctively respects and follows the chain of command. I think it has something to do with his dad being a General.

"I'll just come back later," Ryan finally replies. He gives me another hard look and then turns around and walks away.

"How long do you think he was standing there?" I ask Jack anxiously.

"Oh, probably long enough to think you and I are having an affair or something."

"Jack!" Horrified doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling. Oh sure, Jack will always be "Colonel Jack" or "Tall cute guy" to me, but having _me _hero worship him is one thing, having the rest of the base think I'm sleeping around with him is something_ completely_ different.

"Oh don't worry, Kira!" Jack insists, walking over and putting his arm around my shoulders. "All the folks who really matter know that you're Daniel's barista first and foremost." He pauses as if considering something. "Although, come to think of it, if I _were _to have a midlife crisis…" I know he's just teasing me, but enough is enough.

"Jack, you're not helping matters." I hate it when I have to play the grown-up! I suddenly smile. Heh. Who says I do?

"Oh I guess you're right, Jack," I reply lightly, patting his hand. "After all, a little rumor about you and I would definitely draw some attention away from you and Major Carter." Jack's arm slides off my shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

"I'm not even going to ask what you've heard, or where you've heard it," Jack answers in a voice that is clearly not amused.

"Probably for the best," I reply cheerfully. Point for Meyers! You remember this Jack O'Neill; two can play at this game.

"Tell Judith I'll be back later to pick up the science files on McMurdo," Jack continues, sounding more or less like himself.

"McMurdo?"

"Yeah," Jack explains. "SG-1 is heading back to Antarctica in a couple of days. Seems some scientists have found something interesting and they need Carter to come down and have a look. There's no way I'm letting her go back down there without backup. General Hammond thinks its overkill to send Colonel Reynolds and SG-3, so I guess that just leaves SG-1." He says his team's name with a sigh as if there really is no other choice. I'm betting there are more than a dozen other SG teams who could probably do the job, but Jack is understandably twitchy about _anyone _returning to the frozen continent. "And to make things even more interesting," Jack continues. "Fraiser is coming along. I think she's afraid I'll turn back into a Popsicle or something."

"From what I recall," I say slowly, not too sure if Daniel told Jack about my friend Marcie, "you and Major Carter were seriously injured that last time you were there."

"So they tell me," Jack replies drolly. "Actually, I don't remember much after I told Carter to go for help. Bits and pieces from the helo ride back to McMurdo, but mostly I just remember waking up at the SGC."

"You gave everyone a scare." Jack shrugs in his 'so-they-tell-me' sort of way.

"I'm sure everything will be fine this time around," Jack says finally. "After all, not only will Stargate Command know where I am, but I'll be bringing along my doctor as well."

"See?" I say. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Never ask what might go wrong, Kira," Jack says seriously. "Fate has a funny way of supplying the answer." I suddenly feel very cold. Oh God! I haven't jinxed them, have I? Jack must have seen the look of dismay on my face, for he quickly tries to set my mind at ease.

"Oh don't worry, Kira," Jack says with assurance. "We're only going to be down there a few days. Carter actually quoted me the statistics of having something horrible happen to a person _twice _in the same place or under similar circumstances" He pauses and gives me one of his quirky half-smiles as he ticks off examples on his fingers. "Which means, I'm _never _going to be snaked again; don't ever have to deal with the headache of time travel; won't have to worry about another download of Ancient knowledge, _and _I've already survived my one near-death experience in Antarctica!" Well, when he puts it like that…

"Don't forget to give Judie my message."

"Don't worry, I won't forget."

"Talk to you later, Kira." I give Jack a little wave as he leaves and try to focus on statistics rather than jinxes.

* * *

I was really hoping for a little more time before the gossip began, but you know what they say about wishes and horses…? No, I don't really know how it goes either, but no matter which way you look at it, I'm pretty much destined to become somebody's gossip.

I had been working for nearly five hours before I make the mistake of standing up to stretch. The idea was to take a moment and stretch my legs, maybe head to the bathroom and then up to Level 19 for a Diet Coke (there's a vending machine in the storage closet just outside Dr. Felger's lab). It was a good plan, but as always, my body chose to let me know that it had other needs. The moment I'm vertical, my stomach growls, loudly, and insists on a little nourishment. Oops. Guess I forgot to eat this morning, huh? I grab the latest JSTOR resource catalog and head to the commissary. I don't notice anything different as I enter (that is, no one is trying to brand me with a Scarlet Letter or anything), but then again, it is two o'clock in the afternoon – not exactly prime lunch time.

I grab a tray and bypass Airman Anatokous' "Greek Surprise" and the rather sorry looking green beans soaking in four-hour old butter. I select a yogurt, some sliced fruit and a bowl of Jello before heading towards the sandwich station. I know there must be a story/reason why the SGC has orange, green, red and _blue _Jello, but I haven't quite gotten around to asking. The Jello might confuse me a little, but I couldn't be happier with the 24-hour make-you-own-sandwich station! I make myself a Swiss cheese sandwich, grab a cold Diet Coke and head for an empty table towards the back. I've just finished the first half of my sandwich when I sense someone's presence (see? I am getting better!) I look up and discover not just Ryan (whom I was expecting), but Dr. Gussman as well. I sigh and put down my sandwich.

"Doctors," I say formally. "What brings you by my neck of the lunch room?" Dr.Gussman smiles.

"May we join you?" I nod my acquiescence and the two of them sit down. Across from me I note. Wow. Just like an interrogation! I almost wish I had something to hide.

"Kira, I don't usually speculate in rumors," Dr. Gussman begins politely.

"But what's going on between you and Colonel O'Neill?" Ryan concludes. Dr. Gussman frowns at Ryan's rudeness, but doesn't contradict him.

"What do you mean?" I ask, making an effort to open up my eyes a little wider and look innocent.

"Oh, come on!" Ryan huffs. "You know exactly what I mean! I saw you and O'Neill earlier today."

"Is this true, Kira?" Dr. Gussman asks anxiously.

"Was I in the base library when Colonel O'Neill stopped by for some research papers?" I explain. "Why yes. Yes, I was."

"Oh, don't give me that!" Ryan says angrily. "You and O'Neill were together!"

"Together?" I question, raising my eyes in confusion. "Whatever do you mean Dr. Drexell?"

"I saw you and O'Neill arguing," Ryan hisses. "And it was in a _very _familiar way." I lean back in my chair and take a moment to contemplate. I know I should just come clean and tell them that I've known Jack for years. Explain how he used to come into my store with Daniel when I was a barista. Maybe even mention how he helped convince me to come and work for the SGC. This is what I _should _say.

But it isn't what I _do _say.

"Is there some rule I don't know about with regards to scientists and military personnel?" I ask. Now it's Gussman's eyes that widen.

"You mean, it's _true_?"

"That I know Jack?" I reply, consciously choosing to use his first name. "Yep."

"How long?" I pretend to think about it.

"Over five years."

"Five _years_!" Ryan shouts. Okay, maybe not _shouts_, but his voice did increase in volume. A lot.

"Is that a problem?" I ask innocently.

"Kira," Dr. Gussman says seriously. "How old are you?" Uh oh. Maybe I've taken this too far. The last thing I want to do is get Jack in trouble. Although, I seriously doubt anything a bunch of scientists might say about him will actually do any harm. Now myself on the other hand…

I'm about to come clean with everything when I notice Dr. Edwards entering the room. He looks around anxiously, and then, after spying me in the corner, hurries over to my table.

"Kira!" Dr. Edwards greets me happily. "Just the woman I was looking for!" Up close, I can see that he's once again forgotten to shave this morning (it's a scientist thing). "I need to show you something!" His face is flushed and he's obviously quite excited about something. It takes me less than a second to work out what it is.

"You've done it, haven't you?" I ask, quickly becoming nearly as excited as he is. "You've figured out how to model the European languages next to the Semitic ones, haven't you?" Dr. Edwards nods his head vigorously in agreement.

"We still have a lot of testing to do, and I only programmed in a few dozen key words, but you have to come and see how it works!" I quickly finish my drink, grab the yogurt (I had already opened it) and follow Dr. Edwards out. I'm nearly to the commissary's main entrance before I realize I had left Drs. Gussman and Drexell behind. Not only that, I haven't actually clarified anything at all. Both of them are still under the impression that Jack and I were having an affair! There's no time for any detailed explanation, but I can at least assure them that Jack is an honorable man. Everything else will have to wait until later and I can only hope I haven't jinxed myself.

"Dr. Gussman," I shout as Dr. Edwards leads me away. "I'm almost twenty-four!"

* * *

At first, I'm way too busy with Dr. Edwards to give much thought to either SG-1 or what Drs. Gussman and Drexell are thinking. At one point Chloe stopped by to tell me that she heard the craziest story about Colonel O'Neill and me, but I just didn't have time to fill her in on everything that had happened. Dr. Edwards and I were expecting some visiting linguists from Area 51 and we were doing everything we could to increase the functionality and return on his algorithms before they got here. Well, Dr. Edwards was. I was working on indexing keywords.

I know some of the scientists on base have assigned quarters, but most of us just crash (when necessary) in one of the two public "bunkrooms" set aside for us. I had never actually used one of the cots until last night. I have to admit, those things are pretty darn comfortable after an eighteen hour work day! As much as I would have loved to have slept in my own bed, I was certain I would wake myself up and want to do some work. And seeing how I'm not allowed to bring home any documents directly related to the SGC, this would mean I'd have to get back in my car and drive back up to Cheyenne Mountain if I wanted to get any work done. Needless to say, it just made more sense for me to stay put. For two nights straight.

It's a full forty-eight hours later (and I know this because I'm still wearing the same clothes), when Jack pops in to tell me goodbye. Thankfully, I did have my gym bag with me so I did have some of the more essential clothing items on hand. Last night (this morning?) I had even managed to take a quick shower, so while I'm fairly certain I don't stink (too bad), I do know that I must look awful. If a mirror alone wasn't enough to convince me of this, then General Hammond's surprise visit certainly did the trick. He insisted that both Dr. Edwards and I return to our homes to wash and change before meeting the linguists this afternoon. I'm just getting ready to leave when Jack stops by.

Whenever Jack is working on base, he tends to wear what I refer to as "his baggy blues", that is dark blue button down shirt that falls past his hips and matching trousers. Today he was wearing his "official" SGC traveling clothes. Camo pants and a long sleeve black shirt. In his arms he carried the thickest parka I have ever seen.

"Not taking any chances I take it?" I ask lightly, pointing at his parka.

"It's the same as everyone else's," Jack insists, setting the bulky thing down on my worktable. He cocks his head a little to one side and then shrugs as he lifts a section of it open. "However, I just happen to have a 300 weight polar fleece jacket liner on the inside."

"Like I said," I repeat, smiling. "No chances." Jack nods.

"No chances," he affirms. "I admit I feel a little better knowing Carter's statistics, but it's always a bit of a crapshoot when you go off-world."

"Jack, you're not going off-world."

"Have you ever _been _to Antarctica?" Jack retorts.

"No…" Jack looks smug.

"It's as much off-world as anything else I've visited." I laugh. He's got a point.

"Take care of yourself," I say reaching up and giving him a hug. Jack wrinkles his nose.

"You are going home before meeting with those eggheads from Area 51, right?" Oh God! Do I really smell that bad? Jack laughs. "Relax, Kira," Jack assures me. "_You _smell fine, it's your clothes that need a bath." I still blush. "Here's a hint for ya," Jack says as he gathers up his jackets. "Next time you pull an all-nighter or two, raid Lt. Hailey's locker for a change of cammies." Jack is already out the door before I understand the full meaning behind his words.

"Hey," I shout after him. "Jennifer is a full inch shorter than me!"

* * *

The meeting with the Area 51 scientists went off without a hitch and I was given two days off ("comp time") as a thank you for all my hard work. Stefan managed to get some time off as well, so we decided a road trip was in order. I wanted to go camping, but Stefan put his foot down on that one, but we managed to come up with a pretty good compromise. We took Interstate 70 across Colorado into Utah and drove to Arches National Park just across the border. We had a wonderful time hiking during the day, luxuriating in natural hot springs in the evening, and then walking a short ways back to our bed and breakfast in order to sleep in real beds. For three whole days I don't think about work at all.

I return to work happy and well-rested. Which just makes it all the more difficult when I find out about SG-1. Thankfully, the base truly does function like a family. Everyone cares about one another, and anytime you need to know some general information, you can usually find it. Some of the secret stuff as well. This can be rather bad if you're the one the secrets are about, but it's great when you want to know what's going on. Maybe you yourself don't know, but odds are "Cousin" Chloe, or "Uncle George" does. The trick is finding out who knows what and then getting them to spill the beans.

Down in Antarctica, something had gone wrong and people were getting sick. Really sick. At first it was a storm that was preventing them from getting out, but later Dr. Fraiser placed all of them – Antarctic scientists and SG-1 alike - into quarantine. It takes me a while to get the full story, as the team is still in Antarctica, but it appears that they uncovered a body in the Ice. This in itself is pretty unusual, but the fact that the ice-encrusted woman was able to be revived made it a downright miracle.

The woman, whose name is Ayiana, is old. Unbelievably old. So old, that there is speculation that she might belong to the same species that built the Stargates. The scientist/scholar in me finds this fascinating and I desperately want to talk to this woman and find out all I can about her race and culture. But this part of me pales to the other part of me. The worried part of me. The part of me that is riddled with guilt for asking Jack what could possibly go wrong.

You see, Ayiana seems to be carrying a virus that is making people sick. The good news is that she also seems to have the power to make people well and she has successfully cured all the Antarctic scientists, as well as Sam, Dr. Frasier and Jonas. The bad news is that she's dying.

The truly horrifying news is that Jack is dying as well.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry to end on down note, but this really was the perfect place to end. Which means of course, that I'll probably write about Abyss next (for you, Lynette!). Huge thank you to Charlotte for last minute beta'ing!

I have placed the SGC library on Level 17 (although I don't say it specifically), as, according to the Stargate Wiki, Level 17 is "underdeveloped". Perfect place for a library don't you think? The reference to the "Scarlet Letter" comes from Nathaniel Hawthorne's book of the same name. JSTOR is a professional organization/publication for scholars. And to be honest, the actress who plays Lt. Hailey is listed as 5'4 (taller than Kira), but she _looks _much shorter than that, don't you think? As always, please let me know what you thought of this story! I really do write more frequently when given enough encouragment! ;p

Thanks to Kitty and Kathy (and what I'm sure will be others!) for pointing out the continuity boo-boo!

Written May 29, 2006


	7. Grapevine

**Title:** The Assistant 07 - Grapevine  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6  
**Rating:** PG-13 (language and some adult situations)  
**Related Episode(s): **604- Frozen, 605 - Nightwalkers, 606 - Abyss  
**Summary:** Kira searches for the reason why Jack is taken off world, while artfully avoiding Dr. Ryan Drexell.

**Notes: **This is for Charlotte who sent me the perfect email when I needed it most. And for Julia who (continually) is helping me remove my feet from the ceiling.

* * *

And yet another reason to hate exercise. 

One minute I'm mindlessly running on a treadmill (a little too much chunky monkey if you know what I mean), and the next thing I know I'm pulling off my headphones to join a half dozen soldiers gawking at _something_ fascinating out in the main hall. If I weren't so interested in what was happening, I'm pretty certain I'd be disgusted at myself for acting like a lemming; I _swear _I don't stop and check out car accidents.

"What's so interesting?" I ask one of the airmen. At least I think he is an airman - we have a lot more Air Force personnel on base than Marines, so he while he _probably _is an airman, he _could _be a private. Still, I'm going to go with my gut here and guess Air Force.

On the plus side, I think I'm getting pretty good at telling officers from enlisted personnel - although I do admit to a little profiling when it comes to age and rank. Acne? (mental check of yes) Definitely an airman (or else a private). The airman (sic) before me is trying, unsuccessfully, to take off his boxing gloves with his teeth before heading off to join his friends in the doorway. All his friends are already gawking out the door, so that leaves just me to give him a hand.

"Give me your hand," I instruct him as I motion towards the gloves. I readily admit that this isn't just altruism on my part; I want information! "So, do you know what's going on?" I ask casually.

"They're moving Colonel O'Neill," the airman replies, as I pull off one of the gloves. You know that feeling you get in elevators? When you move super fast between floors and your stomach sometimes takes a few seconds to catch up to your body? That's what I'm feeling right now. It isn't pleasant.

I finish unlacing the glove and wordlessly hand it over. Not waiting to see if he needs my help with glove number two, I wiggle my way between people in order to get a look myself. At the far end of the hallway, I see two medics carrying something that looks suspiciously like a coffin. I can't make out any facial expressions, but I'm pretty certain that's Teal'c near the back (he's kind of hard to miss) and Sam by his side (she tends to stand out as well. We don't have a heck of a lot of 5'10 blonde women either. I think Jonas is across from her, but from my vantage point, he just looks like any one of a dozen cute twenty-somethings in military fatigues.

"Is he dead?" I ask quietly. My voice sounds strangely calm, as if it's coming from far away, I might sound normal, but if one of these soldiers does indeed tells me yes, I swear, I'll lose it in an instant. I'll head straight to my desk, type out a formal resignation, and then sign out of this damn mountain and never set foot in this place again. There's just no way I can handle losing Jack so soon after Daniel.

None.

"Nahh, he's not dead," someone answers as I begin to breathe again. Wordlessly, I give thanks to any god who might be listening.

"Not yet anyhow," another voice adds. Instantly, my stomach begins to feel queasy again. _Not yet! _Before I can ask anymore questions, the procession escorts a hermetically sealed Jack O'Neill right past us. I can actually see an unconscious Jack with an oxygen mask strapped to his face; the image terrifies me. Sam catches my eye and attempts to give me a reassuring smile - it doesn't work.

"Where are they taking him?" I'm met with shrugs and blank stares.

"I'm guessing the Tok'ra," someone finally says. _Tok'ra? The good Goa'uld-guys?_

"Wonder why it's this bozo and not Jacob?" Another person remarks, pointing towards the retreating figure of a dark-skinned man wearing (I swear I'm not making this up) a _tunic_. He must have been behind Teal'c which is why I missed him the first time. So that's a Tok'ra, huh? Suddenly my brain registers the Jacob part. _Jacob? What's a Tok'ra doing with an old biblical Earth name? _Before I can give this too much thought, the procession rounds the corner and disappears into the elevator. I know I should probably stay put, maybe even take a shower, or head back to my lab. Heck, I probably should just go on home.

But I can't. I have to see where they're taking Jack.

I don't have permission (or the access codes) to enter the gate room on Level 28, but all SGC personnel are allowed on Level 27, as it contains the SGC briefing rooms and General Hammond's office. Luck is actually on my side, as its a little past 2000 (oh God, I actually said 'twenty-hundred' in my mind!) and there isn't a lot of activity around. I have no problem entering the briefing room. I nod to the two guards on duty as I solemnly join them by the large observation window. Together we watch as Sam, Teal'c, Jonas and the unknown dark-skinned guy (clearly dressed in non-Earthlike clothing I can now see), enter the gate room. General Hammond is waiting grimly in front of an established wormhole.

An already established wormhole.

I stare at that shimming pool that is going to take Jack away. Absently, I wonder if it's as cold as it looks. I can't hear what's being said, but General Hammond is obviously exchanging words with the strangely-dressed Tok'ra. Hammond steps back as the man bows slightly before leading everyone (including Jack) up the ramp and through the Stargate.

"Does anyone know where they're taking him?" I ask aloud. The guards shake theirs heads.

"Sorry, no,"

"I haven't heard." After giving me what I'm sure was supposed to be looks of encouragement, they turn away and head back to their stations. I remain at the window for a long, long time.

* * *

I've given it a lot of thought and I have come to the conclusion that those Tok'ra guys must have some medical or technological gizmo that is going to save Jack. I mean, that has to be it, right? Jack and I never had a long heart to heart on either the Goa'uld or the Tok'ra, but from what little he has said, I'm pretty certain Jack doesn't really like either one. Sure the Tok'ra are our allies and the Goa'uld are the bad guys, but still - Jack would _never _agree to have a symbiote put in his head. Which means, it has to be a technology thing, right? 

"Cheer up Meyers," I hear an unwelcome voice say, interrupting my musings and reminding me that it isn't always safe to eat alone. "I'm sure Colonel O'Neill will be back any day now." _Ryan_. Damn. Pretty much the last person on the planet I want to see right now. Where are my powers of invisibility when I need them! I hastily pick up a journal I had brought with me to lunch and pretend to read.

"You'd have an easier time convincing me, if the magazine weren't upside down," Ryan advises snidely, as he picks up my magazine and makes a show of turning it around the right way.

"What do you want Dr. Drexell?" I ask. Although Ryan made a big deal of 'just call me Ryan' on the first day of work, he has subsequently made it abundantly clear that only his _peers _are allowed to call him Ryan - the rest of us peons must refer to him as Dr. Drexell. I was careful to remove as much pissiness as possible from my voice, so hopefully he'll just take the hint and leave.

Ryan shrugs. "Just wondering if you knew anything more about Colonel O'Neill."

"I only know what you know," I reply curtly.

"Oh, I truly doubt that," Ryan replies with a sneer. I'd like to think he's being smug due to the fact that he's smarter than me, but I'm pretty sure it's because he's itching to know more gossip about Jack. I'm really too tired for his crap. I'm trying to think of a suitable reply that might not get me fired when suddenly we hear a big crash and there's a whole lot of commotion coming from the kitchen. Both Ryan and I (and the rest of the room) turn and see a red face enlisted man bending down to pick up what appears to be fried chicken. Lots and lots of fried chicken.

"Sergeant, what is the meaning of this!" Uh oh. it's bad enough that the poor sod dropped his tray of food in public, but now he has to deal with his supervisor as well? I totally feel for the guy.

"I was tripped," he mumbles, still red-faced as he gathers his chicken parts back into a large pan.

"You _tripped?"_ Ah man, give the poor man a break. don't embarrass him in public! My only experience managing anyone other than myself might be with a few baristas, but even I know to take it away from the public.

Everyone is fixed on the poor sergeant and his angry lieutenant. Everyone. Including Ryan. I contemplate what I'm considering for about half a second before I do it. Quietly, I grab my magazine and slowly back away from the table, the entire time keeping my eyes firmly on the back of Ryan's turned head. I know this little escape trick might come back to bite me in the butt, but I can't help but seize this little opportunity that has been presented to me. As I leave the room, I say a silent prayer of thanks to the Trip Fairy.

* * *

"You can't avoid him forever, you know?" Chloe tells me as she lustily eyes the chocolate cake. 

"Be strong," I advise, leading her away from the deserts and over to the bowl of somewhat fresh melon balls.

"I never should have asked you to help me stay on my diet," Chloe grumbles.

"But you did," I reply cheerfully, scooping up a big spoonful of fruit, and dumping it on her tray. Of course the downside with helping a friend diet is that inevitably _you _end up doing a little dieting yourself. I really wanted a piece of that cake.

"And don't think I didn't notice how you changed the subject." Chloe gives me a look as if daring me to deny it. Seeing how I _did _artfully change the subject, I just shrug and attempt to look innocent.

"He doesn't have the balls to approach me when I'm with someone," I say with conviction.

"And _you _don't have the balls to just sit by yourself and face the inevitable." Damn. I really hate it when she's right. I grab a chocolate pudding (in lieu of cake) and we head to a table. We sit down and Chloe looks around the room like she's checking for a tail or something.

"I heard something," Chloe whispers.

"About Jack?" I ask eagerly. Chloe cringes as if my voice is too loud. Geeze, she really needs to stop watching those cloak and dagger-type movies.

"Yes, about Jack," Chloe answers quietly, rolling her eyes as she mouths the word 'Jack'. She still finds it rather disconcerting that I call Jack by his first name and not 'Colonel O'Neill' like everyone else. Chloe doesn't actually know all my assorted history with Daniel and Jack (oh God, that sounds bad even to _me)_, but she does know that they're my friends. Sometimes if I go off on some anecdote or story about Daniel, I catch Chloe's attention faltering. Not because of my storytelling ability (which is just fine I'll have you know), but because she just isn't interested in _Daniel_. That's when I have to remind myself that Chloe actually never met him. She has no clear visual (or intellectual) image of him. Tragic!

"Dr. Felger told me that he had heard Dr. Carter talking to Teal'c about Colonel O'Neill," Chloe continues, pausing as she is want to do to go all moony over the word 'Dr. Felger'.

"And!" I try not to sound too impatient; she is giving me some good information after all.

"Sorry, Kira," Chloe apologizes. "I sometimes get carried away with Jay..." Dr. Felger's name comes out as a sigh. Oh brother!

"Its okay, Chloe," I tell her hastily, as I try to get the subject back to _Jack _and not _Jay._ "What did Dr. Felger overhear?" I resist putting 'over' in quotation marks. I already know he was probably eavesdropping.

"Colonel O'Neill had a symbiote put in him," Chloe replies without preamble. I gasp. How could they do that to him?

"You mean a Goa'uld?" I whisper, bending my head down towards hers.

"Yeah," Chloe confirms, nodding her head. "Apparently," Chloe pauses. "Well, according to Dr. Felger, Dr. Carter helped convince Colonel O'Neill to accept a symbiote in order to save his life. Dr. Carter is really happy he's going to be all right, but feels horrible about the way she convinced Colonel O'Neill to agree to the blending."

"Blending?" I repeat, as I feel that ever increasing crevice in my forehead pucker. I'm certain I'm going to have a moon-size crater there by the time I'm thirty. Chloe shrugs.

"I guess it's what you call it when a human and alien merge." Ewww. I really don't like the image of Jack _merging _with one of those worms. We saw slides of those things and they are pretty gross.

"So Jack agreed to this _blending_ and...?"

"And apparently he's okay now and hanging out on some planet while the Tok'ra search for a new host."

"So the symbiote will be removed?"

"Well, if Dr. Felger heard Dr. Carter correctly - yes."

"Wow." I lean back in my chair and contemplate. Chloe nods.

"Jay and I thought it was pretty significant as well."

* * *

The week passes with agonizing slowness as I wait to hear (or overhear) any further news about Jack. At our Friday staff meeting, we were finally told, officially that is, where Jack was. We heard all about the Tok'ra and how Jack had accepted a symbiote that was able to cure his illness. Everything had gone well and Colonel Jack O'Neill was scheduled to return to the SGC the following week. Next week! This kept me cheerful and buoyant both at work and at home. Stefan even commented on it, but all I could tell him was that Jack had become ill while working abroad (which is technically true as he became infected with that virus in Antarctica) and would be returning home next week. Still, knowing Jack would be home soon, and having to wait for it, were two entirely different matters. I'm not sure if I would have survived the following week if it hadn't been for Judie. 

Every year Judie attends the annual American Library Association conference. She only takes a few days off of work, but appreciates the opportunity to get together with her colleagues from other institutions across the country. The scientists do this as well. We constantly have folks heading off to a physics, engineering or medical conference. The SGC scientists might be the best in the country, but they can still learn a few things from non- SGC colleagues. Plus, it's an opportunity to be 'normal' for a few days - something we all highly cherish.

I'm getting ready to leave for lunch when Judie makes her appeal Friday afternoon. It seems that she was all set to fly out on Tuesday (conference to begin on Wednesday) when she found herself one assistant short. Her usual aid was out with a bad chest cold and Judie didn't want to leave her library to the SGC temp pool. Not that she had anything against them of course (where would we be without them?), but she wanted to leave her library to someone she trusted, and I was number two on her list.

"Can I do it, Dr. Edwards?" I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. "This would be an excellent opportunity to learn new skills." Supervisors are always keen on having employees learn something new.

"It would only be for a few hours this afternoon and three additional days," Judie adds, looking suitably needy yet respectful of Dr. Edwards' time. "I'd be eternally thankful," she adds as an afterthought.

"Eternally?" Dr. Edwards asks, his lips curving ever so slightly upwards. Judie nods and ducks her head. I think she's trying not to smile.

"Eternally." I look back and forth between Judie and my supervisor and realize with a shock that they know each other! I mean _really _know each. It takes all my self control not to gasp aloud. Oh my! I've heard that it's quite normal for offices to have a little intrigue and gossip, but the stuff that goes on around here would seriously be enough to entertain a weekly television audience!

"As long as Ms. Meyers is back on Monday, I suppose I can spare her for a few days," Dr. Edwards agrees magnanimously. I flash him a grateful smile. This is going to be great!

"I'm returning from Atlanta Sunday afternoon, so you'll definitely have her back by Monday."

"Sunday afternoon, you say?" Dr. Edwards repeats, looking straight into Judie's eyes.

"Three o'clock arrival," Judie adds, flashing Dr. Edwards a huge grin. Wow. Judie has dimples. I didn't know Judie had dimples. I want to run and tell someone all about this, but Chloe never uses the library so she wouldn't know who I was talking about. I wonder if Jack knows?

"Ms. Meyers," Dr. Edwards says after several seconds of looking longingly into Judie's eyes. "You may head down to the library after lunch and meet with Mrs. Johns. "I expect you back in this office first thing Monday morning."

"Thanks, Dr. Edwards!" Judie, I'll be up right after lunch!" I leave the room and can't help but wonder what those two are going to talk about next.

* * *

Judie has rather strong feelings about metal furniture in libraries, so I find myself sitting behind a comfortable old oak desk reading the New York Times online. Wow. I could really get used to this! I hadn't been at work for more than an hour before Jonas walks in. I'm the only person in the room so I really can't run away. Not that I really would _run_, but I might have ducked behind a book stack or something. I hadn't talked with Jonas since finding out how Daniel died. I don't blame Jonas, directly that is, for Daniel's death, but had things gone differently, it might have been Daniel who was walking through the front door - not Jonas. 

"Kira, Kira Meyers!" Jonas says cheerfully in greeting. "What are you doing in Judie's library?"

"You know Judie?" I ask. Jonas dips his head a little and looks sheepish.

"I come in here _a lot_."

"Me too." We look at each other for several long moments before I break eye contact. "Judie is away at a library conference," I explain. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"I'm looking for some information on Doctor Richard Flemming. Maybe he wrote and article or two? I know he's a scientist - maybe in genetics or molecular biology?"

"Hold on, let me see what I can find." I bring up ISI's Web of Science database and type in 'Richard Flemming'. A large list of periodicals and research papers flash across my screen.

"It looks likes he is indeed a biologist," I say after glancing through the article summaries. "And a professor at Stanford." I read a little further. "Make that ex-professor. He retired a few years ago and went to work for a think tank."

"Do we have anything by him that I could read?" Jonas asks. I scroll back to the top of the page.

"Well, it looks like he made quite a name for himself developing disease resistant corn. I can print you out an article he wrote for the American Journal for Evolutionary Science if you like."

"That would be great, Kira. Thanks!" He gives me a warm, grateful smile. I bring up the PDF article and click print.

"So why are you interested in Dr. Flemming?" I ask, needing to fill in the gaps of silence with words. I'm guessing Jonas won't readily bring up Daniel's death unless someone asks him about it, but I really don't want to take the chance that I might be wrong. He is an alien after all, who knows what normal social etiquette is for them!

"Major Carter received a cryptic phone call from Dr. Flemming this morning," Jonas explains. I don't really know any of the details yet, but SG-1 is meeting in a few hours to talk about it and I thought I'd find out what I can on Dr. Flemming before we meet."

"Sounds like a good idea," I say politely. The article finishes printing and I hand it over. "Here you go." Jonas reaches for the papers and touches my hand lightly. I look down at his hand and then up to his face. He's looking at me with overflowing compassion.

"I'm really sorry about Dr. Jackson," Jonas says softly. "I heard you two were close and I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry." I'm so flabbergasted by his words that I struggle to find words to reply.

"How...?" Jonas shrugs and gives me a small smile.

"I'm really good at reading people," Jonas says self-depreciatively. "And I thought it was something you needed to hear from me." I remain speechless. Jonas gives me another smile. "Thanks for the article, Kira." He holds the papers to his chest and gives me a little nod before he turns around and exits the library.

I remain pretty much speechless for the rest of the morning.

* * *

I'm not sure if I enjoy my three days on Level 18 because of the library per se, or because of the fact that Ryan is out with the flu. And from what I hear, it's the kind that causes you to return to work ten pounds lighter, and several shades paler. I try not to take pleasure in Ryan's discomfort, but I'm only human and the guy _is _kinda turning into my nemesis. I spend a pleasant three days chatting with friends and colleagues in the commissary and doing a bit of light research in the library. I head home for the weekend content with my job and looking forward to seeing Jack again next week. it's amazing how good one can feel when you aren't worried about yourself or your friends. Stefan is now only two quarters shy of receiving his MBA, interest rates are falling so fast that I actually might be able to afford a condo next spring, and Jack O'Neill will be returning to the SGC on Monday. Life is good. 

My euphoria is crushed into bite size pieces less than an hour after signing into work. Ryan is back from _having _the flu, Dr. Edwards is out _with _the flu, and Jack O'Neill is missing. Now missing is much better than 'dead', or 'presumed dead" or even 'ascended', but it's still not very good. What makes it even worse is that he _still _has that thing in his head and no one has a clue where he, or it, might be. Personally, I think they accidentally put a Goa'uld in his brain rather than a Tok'ra and now the Goa'uld is going nuts and taking Jack with him.

Hey! It's a theory.

It takes all my self control not to run down to Level 27 when I hear the klaxons blare unexpectedly. Someone is coming through the Stargate and I already checked with Chloe, who heard from Jay, who was told in a senior staff meeting, that no SG teams were due to return today. It does make me feel better that I'm not the only one anxious to know who is stepping through that Stargate - I see other people looking through doorways and calling up friends on different floors to see if anyone knows the identity of our gate traveler. I'm lucky: I find out in less than ten minutes.

"It's not Colonel O'Neill," Lt. Hailey informs me as she pokes her head into my lab. Jen is both military and one of those physical scientists, but we short girls need to stick together. I think Jen also has some history with Jack. Not creepy history, but some kind of military thing. I keep meaning to ask her about it, but seeing how I'm back to taking my meals in the lab, it isn't going to happen any time soon.

"Are you sure?" I ask. Jen nods.

"It's the Tok'ra," she says. "The one who escorted Jack back to their planet has just returned. She pauses and gives me a worried look. "Alone."

"This can't be good." Jen nods.

"No. It can't."

* * *

Throughout the day, I watch a lot of people running around. A tech over in the astronomy lab was asked to bring up the latest maps of a particular star system, and then later some additional soldiers were geared up and sent to the Gate Room. Teal'c and Jonas are holed up in Sam's lab, but no one really knows what they're doing. It isn't until after lunch ( spent in my lab), that I find out that the Tok'ra representative, a guy by the name of Thoran, was denied a return trip to his planet. I'm guessing we're keeping him here until we get Jack back, but I don't know any of the details. 

The next two days are quiet. Not only is Dr. Edwards still sick, but that Tok'ra guy is apparently under house arrest. Everyone is walking around on eggshells as we wait for _someone _to find Jack. Each day I head home exactly at 5 o'clock, and each day I come to work with baited breath hoping this will be the day we hear something.

Not everything makes it to the SGC grapevine in a timely manner. I actually didn't hear a darn thing about an unexpected IDC-encoded message from the Alpha Site. I didn't hear Teal'c running down the hallway (some said, he ran so hard, his footsteps could be heard two floors below). I had no idea that over in the infirmary, Dr. Janet instantly stopped what she was doing (suturing Sgt. Siler) when she heard the news. Apparently, she quickly handed the needle off to a nurse, peeled off her gloves and ran out the door with a fully equipped med kit. I had no idea that there was a flurry of activity as Sam, Jonas, General Hammond and several airmen met an out-of-breath Dr. Fraiser, and a not-breathing-hard-at-all Teal'c in the Gate Room just as the iris opened. No, the SGC grapevine didn't fill me in on any of this until much later. All I heard was that one tired, disheveled, but gloriously alive Jack O'Neill had made it home.

It was enough.

* * *

**Notes:** First - the definitions: an MBA is a Masters in Business Administration. That database Kira was using? It's real: ISI Web of Science 

Okay, now the other stuff...Now, before you all get upset with me, do know that I'll be writing the _true_ Abyss story next (the one Lynette is chomping at the bit to read). I didn't intend to give you so much backstory with this one - it just happened. Would you rather I delete all these words above and head straight to the depressing stuff? (No Lynette, you're not allowed to vote). You _will _get an angsty Abyss story. In fact, I already have a pretty good idea on how it's going to be written (which is unusual for me - usually I don't have a clue until I start typing. Scary, eh?) And to show you good faith, I'm going to leave you with a preview. This scene probably won't be what starts the next story, but it will be a part of it. Notice the pov change? Another reason why I wanted/needed to end here and have a different story for Abyss - I want access to Jack's head! (rolls eyes Slashers in the front row, would you _please _sit down?)

Next on the Assistant...

* * *

"Hiya Jack," Kira says giving Jack a little wave. 

"Kira," Jack answers warily, shifting his groceries from one arm to another. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?" He pauses to think for a moment. "Come to think of it, _how'd _you know where I live?" Kira shrugs.

"A little bird told me." Jack looks at her skeptically and reaches into his pant pocket for the house keys.

"It's already open," Kira informs him helpfully.

"It is?" Kira nods and Jack looks confused.

"If it's open, why aren't you inside?"

"Oh, I already was," Kira clarifies. "Did a little yelling to ensure you weren't around and then hightailed it back outside."

"And the reason would be...?" Jack didn't quite understand why anyone would want to wait on a dirty porch bench under a hot autumn sun when shade and beer waited inside.

"You weren't home Jack," Kira explains. "Don't you know it's rude to hang out in another person's home if they aren't there?" Jack just shakes his head and pulls the door open. He motions for Kira to enter.

"Besides," Kira adds as she grabs her bag and stands up. "I hear you're ninja-good on the self-defense stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if you have guns and other nasty things around here."

"Nasty things?" Jack repeats, as he follows Kira inside and locks the door behind them.

"Explosive stuff. Knives. Things that can do me bodily harm." She pauses as she follows Jack into the kitchen. "When given the choice between being a little comfortable outside, or the possibility of being accidentally shot inside before I could tell you who I was - I went with the outdoor option." Jack shrugs. Well, when she put it like _that... _

More soon!

* * *

Written June 26, 2006 


	8. Flashback

**Title:** The Assistant 08 - Flashback  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6  
**Related Episode(s):** 606 - Abyss  
**Warnings:** Strong language, a little Angst. Humour, too.  
**Summary:** Kira wants more than anything to see Jack after his return from the Tok'ra - the reunion doesn't exactly go as planned.

**Author's Notes: **This one _is _for Lynette. Thank you, thank you, thank you to Clarissa, Kathy, Allyson, Lynette and Jamie for their (very) early morning beta read, and as always, Julia for making her invaluable comments and suggestions. This one is long y,all - enjoy!

* * *

Previously on the Assistant… 

_Not everything makes it to the SGC grapevine in a timely manner. I actually didn't hear a darn thing about an unexpected IDC-encoded message from the Alpha Site. I didn't hear Teal'c running down the hallway (some said, he ran so hard, his footsteps could be heard two floors below). I had no idea that over in the infirmary, Dr. Janet instantly stopped what she was doing (suturing Sgt. Siler) when she heard the news. Apparently, she quickly handed the needle off to a nurse, peeled off her gloves and ran out the door with a fully equipped med kit. I had no idea that there was a flurry of activity as Sam, Jonas, General Hammond and several airmen met an out-of-breath Dr. Fraiser, and a not-breathing-hard-at-all Teal'c in the Gate Room just as the iris opened. No, the SGC grapevine didn't fill me in on any of this until much later. All I heard was that one tired, disheveled, but gloriously alive Jack O'Neill had made it home. _

_It was enough. _

* * *

It took all of Kira's self control _not _to show up for work at 6 AM . As much as she wanted to see Jack, she was aware that he probably wasn't going to be up to seeing visitors anytime soon. There was the mandatory mission debriefing, which would probably be a little longer than normal considering an implanted symbiote was involved, and of course a medical checkup. With luck, Dr. Fraiser would declare Jack free and clear of all foreign bodies. Maybe she would even allow him to go home and sleep in his own bed before the debriefing. Kira was a little doubtful on the 'going home' part, but her fingers were crossed that he wouldn't need to spend any considerable amount of time in the infirmary. 

She arrived at the mountain at 0700, an hour earlier than normal. Dr. Edwards wasn't due to arrive for another 90 minutes, which gave Kira plenty of time to find Jack and make sure he was really okay. After assuring herself that no one was paying her the least bit of attention, Kira opened the emergency 'door' at the end of the hall and stepped inside. She knew she was probably being paranoid, but she really didn't want to run into Dr. Drexell on her way to see Jack – especially as she was heading towards his personal quarters. Taking the stairs rather than the elevator might be a little extreme, but Kira justified it by telling herself she really did need the exercise. While she was hopeful that Jack had been allowed to go home, more than likely he was either in his own quarters on Level 25, or the infirmary on Level 21.

Kira was hoping for 25.

Taking the stairs down seven levels wasn't difficult, but she wasn't exactly looking forward to the trip back up. Judie had assured her that the stairwells were unlocked and would take a person all the way to the surface, or down to the gate room on Level 28. Kira knew the stair 'corridor' between the library on Level 17, the labs on Level 18 and 19 and the commissary on Level 22 were open, but she had no idea if she'd be able to access Level 25. She held her breath as she reached the proper floor and swiped her cardkey on the electronic lock. Nothing happened. It wasn't that the lock was showing red and telling her that access was restricted; the electronic keypad simply wasn't working.

"Well, it isn't like it's telling me _no_…" Kira justified to herself, as she reached for the submarine-esque handle, and turned it several times counter-clockwise. A soft hiss could be heard from the door, telling Kira that the seal was now broken and she _should _be able to push the door open. Mentally crossing her fingers, Kira leaned into the door with a good deal of weight and grinned as it opened.

"Sweet!" Tucking her ID card back into her pocket, Kira began to explore the seemingly deserted floor. She passed two rooms marked ' VIP ', and then a door that simply said 'Teal'c'. She was halfway down the hall when she passed another door that made her gasp out loud.

**Dr. Daniel Jackson **

_Daniel's room!_ Kira couldn't help but take a step towards the closed door and run her fingers lightly across Daniel's name. It took all of her self control not to open it. She had seen Daniel's apartment, but she was really curious what his room looked like on base. Logic told her that most likely it had been emptied and cleaned, and they just hadn't gotten around to removing the name plaque yet. However, emotion told her that perhaps they had simply forgotten all about Daniel's on base quarters. Maybe there was something in there? Maybe it was unlocked...

"May I help you, miss?" Kira noticeably jumped, and thanked her lucky stars she wasn't actually reaching (yet) for the door knob. Guess the floor wasn't quite as deserted as it appeared. She slowly turned around, resisting the urge to hold her hands up as a sign of her obvious guilt.

"Um, hi there," Kira said brightly, desperately trying to get her heart rate back under control. "I'm looking for Colonel O'Neill." The airman frowned as he read the name on the door behind her.

"You were looking for Colonel O'Neill in Dr. Jackson's old room?"

"Oh no," Kira said quickly. "I just happened to pass Daniel's room on the way to Jack's and…" The airman's military features softened.

"Yeah, that happened to a lot of us the first couple of weeks after he…"

"Left?" Kira offered. The guard gave a small smile of thanks and nodded.

"Left," he agreed, trying the word on for size and finding that it fit. They continued to stare at one another for several moments before the guard broke the détente. "Colonel O'Neill's quarters are across the hall," the guard said finally, pointing towards the door opposite Daniel's. "But he's not there."

"Are you sure?" Kira asked. Maybe Jack crashed in his bunk before this guy got on duty? The guard shook his head.

"He's still in the infirmary," the soldier explained. Kira's face fell with the news. So much for hoping.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Janet, I'm fine," Jack said forcefully, waving the bevy of morning nurses away. "You've kept me here for nearly a week now, I think it's time you let me go home." Part of Janet was happy to hear Jack say this. The simple act of expressing himself meant that he honestly was on his way towards recovery; the problem was it was just the beginning.

"Colonel," Janet answered patiently. "You know as well as I do that…"

"That what?" Jack growled impatiently. "That I'm suffering from acute withdrawal? That I'm going to have night sweats, crying jags, flashbacks! Doc, I've been there, done that and have got the scars to show for it." Jack lowered his voice to near normal as he pleaded his case. "I know what to expect, Janet. Please just let me go home."

"Colonel," Janet tried again. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Jack shouted, losing his tentative grip on normal. "You notify Hammond, sign on the damn dotted line and **let me out**!"

"Colonel O'Neill," Janet answered in a firm voice. "You need to calm down." Jack's eyes flashed with anger, and Janet wondered if she shouldn't have kept the gentle bedside manner just a little longer. She glanced furtively at the padded leather straps by the side of Jack's bed and wondered if they had removed the restraints too soon. She hated having been forced to use them, and was only saved from an inordinate amount of guilt (he had been _killed _for God's sake) by the fact that the restraints had been Jack's idea.

Jack had known.

Jack had known that his withdrawal from the sarcophagus was going to be bad. He might not have recalled the exact number of times he had died (been _killed_), but he believed it to be over a dozen. Janet would not be surprised if the number was twice that. Jack knew this wasn't going to be easy, and he had been right.

At first, everyone had been so relieved to see him; the fact that Jack was walking under his own power and able to communicate led both General Hammond and Major Carter to believe everything was fine. Or rather would be fine in due time. Janet wasn't so certain, but her initial observation had been similar. While it had been obvious that Jack had been through an ordeal, the fact that he had made it home led most to believe that everything would be fine and that his stay with Ba'al hadn't been as bad as feared. At least that's what the humans of the SGC believed; the alien members of SG-1 were a different story.

In the six months since Jonas had been at the SGC, he had virtually inhaled every report written on SG-1. Something in Colonel O'Neill's bearing made Jonas think of an old mission file from several years ago. Hoping he was wrong, Jonas hastily welcomed the Colonel home and then headed off in search of a file on Dr. Jackson's disastrous stay on a planet with a Goa'uld sarcophagus. Teal'c's observations were more meticulous. He carefully examined the state of Jack's clothing, as well as the guarded way his friend was holding himself. The lack of humor in Jack's eyes was unsettling, but it was the absence of Jack's indefatigable spirit that really had Teal'c worried. He knew something horrible had taken place.

Both he and Jonas had been right. Within hours of Jack's arrival home, those closest to him, the General, Janet and SG-1, knew it too.

"You won't need them again," Jack said softly as he tracked Janet's eye movements towards the restraints. "I might still be in a sorry state, but I'm beyond needing those." Jack spit out 'those' as if it were poison.

"I hope so, Colonel," Janet replied sincerely. "Because while I'm used to your outbursts, if I feel you're going over the line…"

"I won't," Jack replied earnestly, hoping Janet might actually let him leave.

"You did before." Jack ducked his head. So much for going home. She was right. He had.

"You know I didn't mean it, Jan," Jack said quietly, not able to lift his head to look his doctor and friend in the eye. "I would never have …"

"I know Jack," Janet answered. While never a good patient in the best of circumstances, the damage inflicted upon him by Ba'al was the worst kind: psychological. Well, and physical too, but for a Goa'uld, the two went hand-in-hand. She might not know all the details of what was done to him, but she had seen the physical and psychological after effects. In silence they regarded one another.

"You know this isn't the best place for me," Jack said finally, motioning at the isolation room around him.

"I'm sorry Colonel," Janet answered, switching back to the more comfortable role of doctor. She and Jack were friends. Good friends. But right now, Jack needed his doctor far more than his friend. "I know you need and deserve something better, but right now this is the best we have." Janet wished more than anything that the Alpha Site were equipped to deal with Jack's unique situation. Jack was absolutely right – this was _not _the best place for him. But no matter how much he threatened or begged, she also knew he couldn't go home. Not yet. There was no way she was going to send him home while he was still experiencing violent nightmares and flashbacks. If there were a hell for Goa'uld System Lords, Janet fervently hoped Ba'al paid it a visit soon.

"Janet, I can't stay here," Jack whispered, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Under normal conditions, hiding his feelings was as easy as breathing, but after a few dozen visits to Ba'al's damned sarcophagus, Jack was finding it difficult to appear nonchalant. Hell, it was taking all his self control not to curl up in a ball. Jack could see that none of his pleas were working, so he tried a different tactic. "The flashbacks are getting worse the longer you keep me here." 'Here' was isolation. Janet shook her head no.

"Colonel, you not only attacked me, you injured another patient."

"I didn't know what I was doing!" Jack shouted, clenching his fists so hard he drew blood. "Don't you think I would have stopped myself if I could!"

"I know you would have," Janet said, fighting her urge to go over to him. The last thing Jack O'Neill wanted right now was comfort. "It's because you had no control over it that you have to stay here," Janet continued. Jack lowered his head in misery.

"Just a little while longer, Colonel," Janet offered. "As soon as the flashbacks have stopped and you're sleeping through the night, I'll consider releasing you."

"Home?" Jack whispered. He didn't even want to hope, but his voice betrayed him.

"We'll see, Colonel."

It wasn't a no.

* * *

Kira felt horrible. Not only was Jack in the infirmary, but he in an isolation room and wasn't allowed any visitors. Not even her! She tried getting Sam's help, but much to her surprise (and horror), not even members of SG-1 were allowed regular access. To make matters worse, no one was telling her exactly what was wrong with Jack. Obviously, he must have contracted something serious while living on the Tok'ra world, but no one would tell her what. Not even Dr. Fraiser! 

Kira had just returned from her (unsuccessful) twenty-third attempt at visiting Jack. By now, Dr. Fraiser was used to her daily (sometimes hourly, if there was a change in the nursing staff) attempts, and although sympathetic and occasionally apologetic, Kira was always turned away and told little. Kira angrily returned to her lab and slammed the door. Dr. Edwards was at a conference, so she could sulk and worry in silence.

"Hi Kira."

Or not so silence.

Kira whirled around at the sound of the voice. She _knew _that voice.

"Daniel!"

"Kira, I need you to do something for me," Daniel began without preamble. Kira blinked.

"Daniel?" Her voice was tentative, as if doubting what…_who _was standing right before her. It was one thing for Kira to talk to a 'ghost' version of Daniel, someone she hadn't (at the time) believed to be real, but something completely different to be in the presence of the _actual _Daniel Jackson. An ascended-yet-here Daniel Jackson. Kira took a step closer and tentatively reached out her hand.

"Sorry Kira," Daniel said apologetically, giving her a small smile. "I'm here, but I'm still ascended." Kira withdrew her hand.

"So, you're not real?" Daniel shrugged, and cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Real, but not corporeal," he explained. Kira wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion.

"So if I were to try and touch you…" Kira began.

"Your hand would go right through me," Daniel concluded. "I really wouldn't recommend it. It's rather disconcerting for both of us."

"But you're here," Kira confirmed. "You're really talking to me."

"Yes," Daniel said with a nod and smile. "I'm really here."

"I think this is where I say 'I need a drink'," Kira said laughing at the sheer craziness of the situation.

"If you think it might help, go on ahead." Kira shook her head.

"Somehow, I don't think anything will really help with this one." Kira paused as she eyed the seemingly solid-looking Daniel Jackson. "You're really here." She continued to stare at Daniel for several long seconds. She took in his khaki pants, white polo shirt and dark brown shoes. _Ascended people wore shoes?_ Her eyes traveled back up his body to his face. Daniel looked good. Content. He also wasn't wearing any glasses.

"No glasses, huh?" Daniel reached up, as if to touch his face, but pulled his hand in at the last moment.

"I don't actually need them now," he began. "I can choose to wear what I want when I appear in corporeal form."

"So as an ascended person, you walk around naked?" Had Daniel been corporeal he would have blushed. As it was, Kira blushed for him. She really needed to learn to control those impulse comments.

"No…," Daniel began. "I'm energy."

"Naked energy?" She just couldn't let that go, could she?

"Kira, could we get back to the matter at hand here?" Daniel said, rolling his eyes. He hadn't quite remembered Kira being so…cheeky. Must be Jack's influence.

"Sorry," Kira said contritely. "So Daniel," she began again, taking a seat just a few feet from her friend. "What brings you to my neck of the woods? Do you know that Jack is in the infirmary? Isolation room, actually. " Kira babbled. "Maybe you can help me in to see him?"

"That's why I'm here, Kira," Daniel explained seriously. "It's about Jack."

* * *

Sometimes, not often, but every now and then, Jack was glad he had lived through the horror of being a prisoner of war. As a POW, Jack had learned to mask his emotions; occasionally, he could even hide the nightmares. Jack knew Janet would never allow him to leave until he got his flashbacks and nightmares under control. Ergo, if he couldn't shake them, he needed to at least hide them. Janet was pretty good at knowing when Jack was 'faking', but she was human, and occasionally he could pull the wool over even _her _eyes. 

The first night he didn't even try. He woke up twice in the throes of a horrendous nightmare, and after the second time, needed a shot of valium to fall back asleep. During the day, he had two "minor" flashbacks (one caused by taking the elevator from the isolation room to the commissary), and one major one after an aide attempted to change an IV. The man had brought with him a small bottle of antiseptic. The bottle was plastic and had a little dropper – just like the one Ba'al had used. Jack screamed so hard, his throat was raw.

The second night, Jack concentrated on "fixing" his nightmares. He still had two, but the nurses only heard about one. Day two was a flashback-free day, but Jack was pretty certain that had more to do with the fact that he spent most of the day playing chess with Teal'c.

After the third night (one nightmare), Jack was moved back into the infirmary. By the fourth night, he had Janet's attention. His nightmares had (visibly) ceased, and even though he occasionally had a flashback, they usually resulted in Jack's withdrawal from whatever he was doing, and not a violent outburst. He would stop talking (or eating) and just stare straight ahead for several long moments until the flashback was over. To anyone who witnessed these, Jack _looked _like he was all right. What they failed to notice was how he often had to "go to the bathroom" shortly after each flashback. In the bathroom, Jack often threw up.

On the sixth day, eleven days after escaping Ba'al's planet, Jack went home.

* * *

Kira's talk with Daniel had been…educational. She had learned a little (not much, but at least a little) of what had happened to Jack after he left with the Tok'ra. Daniel wouldn't fill her in on the details, and to be honest, Kira didn't think she wanted to hear them. Jack had been tortured. Tortured by a Goa'uld. At first she had been horrified for Jack, and more than a little angry. With Daniel. If he knew something so heinous had happened to Jack, why didn't _he_ go to him and help? It didn't make sense to her that Daniel needed her to do it. What good was knowing someone needed your help, if you weren't allowed to _do _anything? 

It wasn't as if she didn't want to help Jack, it was just that Kira couldn't imagine how an ex-barista half his age was going to succeed where friends and colleagues had failed. Daniel hadn't been big on details, but he seemed certain that Jack needed to talk. Kira had balked at this. Sure, she and Jack talked, but _talk_ talk? As in feelings? Not only was Kira pretty certain this wasn't Jack's style, she actually wasn't all that certain it was hers either. Daniel assured her that she only needed to be herself, but Kira remained dubious.

The one good part of all of this was that she had confirmed for herself that Daniel was really…_real_ and not just a ghost image of her imagination. Just knowing that somewhere out there a Daniel Jackson really existed did wonders for Kira's mood. She stopped thinking of Daniel as dead, and began to think of him as Ascended. She was determined to read everything she could in the base's library and mission files on this very odd angel-state. But first she needed to see Jack. If Daniel Jackson, Ascended Being wanted her to head over to Jack's house (a house he had kindly given her directions to) and try to talk to him, who was she to say no? Besides, if this all went horribly wrong she could just blame it on Daniel.

On second thought, maybe it would be for the best to keep Daniel's name out of it. Kira had no idea if Daniel regularly popped in on others, but she didn't want to risk a mandatory psychological screening to find out. Daniel told her how to find Jack; now all she had to do was wait.

She hadn't been at the house more than an hour or so when she heard the sound of wheels on gravel. "Daniel, you had better be right about this," Kira mumbled, as she watched the truck pull into the driveway and park.

"Hey Jack," Kira said cheerfully, giving him a little wave, as she watched him get out of his truck. Jack was used to seeing squirrels, deer, even the occasional elk, but an unexpected house guest was…well, unexpected. He eyed the young woman sitting comfortably on his front porch and frowned.

"Kira," Jack answered warily. He shifted his groceries from one arm to another and looked around to see if anyone else was with her. All he could see was her little Toyota Corolla parked next to the ditch. "So," Jack began, as he closed and locked his truck door. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?" He paused in mid-step as he tried to remember if Kira had ever been to his house. He was fairly certain she hadn't. "Come to think of it, Ms. Meyers, how _did _you know where I lived?" Kira shrugged.

"A little bird told me." Jack looked at her skeptically and shook his head. She was a smart girl, but for all he knew, she had hacked into the base computer or something. Then again, Kira struck him as a rather honest person. No, Jack would have bet money she had gotten his address from someone at the SGC. The question was who? Still musing, he reached into his pocket for the house keys.

"Um, it's already open," Kira informed him helpfully.

"It is?" Kira nodded, and Jack felt like an ass. How could he forget to lock his own front door? Must be another side effect of his not so pleasant visit with Ba'al.  
"If it's open," Jack asked. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Oh, I already was," Kira clarified. "Did a little yelling to ensure you weren't around and then hightailed it back outside to wait for you." Now this made no sense at all to Jack. Why would anyone want to wait on a dirty porch bench under a hot autumn sun when shade and cool beverages waited inside?

"And the reason for this would be...?"

"You weren't home of course," Kira explained. "Don't you know it's rude to hang out in another person's home if they aren't there?" Jack just shook his head and climbed the three short stairs up to his front door. Jack pushed the door open and then offered Kira a hand up.

"Besides," Kira added as she was helped up. "I hear you're ninja-good on the self-defense stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if you have guns and other nasty things in here."

"Nasty things?" Jack repeated, as he followed Kira inside and locked the door behind them.

"You know – like guns, or other pointy things that could do me bodily harm." She paused as she followed Jack into the kitchen. "When given the choice between being a little uncomfortable outside, or the possibility of being accidentally shot inside -- I went with the outdoor option." Jack cocked his head to one side and shrugged. Well, when she put it like _that…_

"Take a seat anywhere," Jack motioned, as he set down his grocery bag and began to put things away. "May I offer you some cheese?" Jack asked, as he withdrew a block of cheddar from the bag. Kira giggled.

"I'll pass on the cheese, but would love a beer if you're having one." Kira had only seen Jack drink on a few occasions, but he seemed like a beer person to her.

"Beer I can do," Jack replied as he finished putting away the rest of the groceries. Kira noticed that he seemed to be big on hot pockets and frozen pizza. Jack opened two bottles and handed one to Kira as he motioned her towards the living room. Kira took the couch, while Jack sat down in a comfortable old leather chair. He leaned back, took a long swig of his beer and spent several long moments just looking at Kira. He gazed at her with such scrutiny that Kira began to feel uncomfortable.

"What?" She asked. Jack said nothing as he took another swig and continued to stare. "Jack, you're freaking me out here," Kira joked; Jack took another swig.

"I'm just wondering what you're doing here," Jack said finally. "There's no way Teal'c put you up to it, and while I'm guessing both Fraiser and Carter are _concerned, _it just isn't either of their styles to not come themselves. In fact…" Jack paused as the truth hit him and he exhaled a single name.

"Daniel."

"Daniel?" Kira repeated, trying to appear puzzled.

"This is Daniel's doing, isn't it?"

"Jack, Daniel is dead." Kira had found that things were simpler if you just stuck to the truth.

"Oh, don't give me that," Jack accused, pointing a finger at Kira. "He's not _dead_, he's _ascended_. I've seen him, and damn recently I might add. I have a funny feeling you have as well." He stared at Kira with his intense brown eyes, and Kira hung her head in defeat. She hadn't actually thought the 'little bird' explanation was going to fly anyhow. Wait a minute, Kira thought to herself. _Recently_?

"You've seen Daniel?" Kira asked with interest. "When?" Daniel hadn't told her that he'd appeared to anyone else. Of course, for all she knew, he regularly visited his friends on SG-1.

"When did you?" Jack shot back. Kira gave him her own version of a steely gaze and took a sip of her beer. _Fine! Two can play this game, Jack O'Neill._

"The first time was just a week or so after he 'died'," Kira began. She shrugged and began to play with her beer label as she remembered those earlier meetings. "I thought he was a ghost."

"A week?" In spite of himself, Jack was impressed. He hadn't even gotten a hint that Daniel was still around until nearly two weeks after he…left. Absently, he wondered why Daniel had shown himself to her first.

"He sat with me for a couple days while I tried to decide if I should join the SGC," Kira explained. Jack nodded. That made sense. Daniel would of course feel guilty that he had turned Kira's life upside down and then…left "I seriously was considering turning the job offer down, but Daniel convinced me otherwise." Kira scoffed out loud. "Actually, I think I convinced myself, and Daniel just did a lot of nodding and looking sympathetic. He did occasionally say some things to me, but now that I think about it, I was the one who did the majority of the talking."

"Well that's different," Jack mused.

"Different?"

"It isn't like Daniel to play the silent type," Jack explained. "He tends to give details. Lots and lots of details." Jack finished off his beer and mused. "I miss him."

"Me too." They sat in a Daniel-induced silence for several moments before Jack abruptly stood up.

"Another beer?" Kira shook her head no. Jack threw his bottle into the recycling container next to the sink, and then helped himself to another beer before returning to his chair.

"When did _you_ first see Daniel?" Kira asked after Jack was settled.

"A couple weeks ago," Jack answered vaguely. Kira did the math. Jack must have seen Daniel during the time he was with the Tok'ra.

"He knew about the symbiote?" Kira asked carefully. Daniel never actually told her what she should or shouldn't talk about with Jack, just that talking would be good.

"Yep," Jack said, drinking. "Although we met shortly after the snake turned Benedict Arnold on me and died."

"Died?"

"Yep." He gave no details.

"You hungry?" Jack asked, not so subtly changing the subject. "According to Fraiser, I need to eat more, so why don't you join me for lunch?"

"You sure?" Kira asked. She still wasn't sure if her presence here was wanted.

"Absolutely. You can microwave the Hot Pockets." Jack was kidding and Kira knew it.

"Jack!"

"What? I like Hot Pockets." Kira rolled her eyes. She remembered Jack's block of cheese.

"How about grilled cheese?"

"You're in luck," Jack said smiling. "I like grilled cheese, too." Kira laughed. "The bread and a cutting board are next to the toaster," Jack said pointing to the end of the kitchen. "And I think I have a cheese slicer in that drawer to the left of the sink. "You start the sandwiches, and I'll make us some tomato soup."

"Sounds good," Kira replied. She opened the fridge and took out the cheese, bringing it back to the counter. Kira grabbed the cutting board and bread, and then opened the drawer and rummaged around for a cheese slicer. Not finding one, Kira grabbed a small handled knife and began to cut the cheese in thick slices. She heard the sound of a can opener and smiled at the notion that Jack O'Neill uses an electric can opener. Somehow, it just didn't seem macho enough.

"Butter?" Kira asked over her shoulder.

"Hold on, let me get the soup going first." Jack emptied the can into a saucepan and then opened the fridge to get the butter. He bent down to take out a frying pan, and turned around the same time as Kira.

"Cheese?" Kira offered, holding out a chunk of cheese on the knife.

Knife!

"Jack?" Kira repeated, waving her offering. "Want a taste?" She wrinkled her brow in confusion. What was Jack staring at?

Knife!

Without warning, Jack reacted.

"Get that thing the hell away from me!" Jack roared, as he swung the frying pan with all his might at the gleaming knife. Kira didn't even have time to scream. The force of the blow whirled her completely around, sending the knife whirling in one direction and Kira's body in another. Her head hit the counter with a horrifying crack and she sank to the ground without a sound.

"Oh God!" Jack cried, as he desperately tried to shake himself out of the violent flashback. He was _not _with Ba'al! This was _not _real! _Kira! _The frying pan clattered noisily to the floor.

"K..ira?" Jack stared at her unmoving body, scarcely able to breathe. **He** did this. Kira was lying on her side, one arm awkwardly under her and the other lying limply by her hip. Judging by the odd angle, it was broken. While the hand concerned him, it was her unconsciousness that really had him worried.

"Kira?" he tried again. His limbs shook as he kneeled beside the prone young woman. "Bealive, bealive, bealive," Jack panted through his teeth as he reached one shaking hand over to her bared neck. He could feel his eyes fill as he carefully pressed against her cartoid artery, next to a visible blue vein. Half a second later he felt the resounding pulse of her heart. She was alive. Hot tears trickled unnoticed down his cheeks as he kept his fingers against her neck for several long seconds, taking comfort in her strong heart beat. "OhthankGod." With the heels of his hands, Jack rubbed his eyes and exhaled. She was alive.

Now he needed to keep her that way.

Knowing he should call for help, Jack first wanted to make sure Kira had no other visible injury. He carefully felt around her neck and head and was relieved to feel only a large goose egg-sized bump. Hopefully this was just a minor concussion and not a full blown head injury.

"Kira?" Jack tried. He really needed for her to wake up. "Kira honey, I'm so sorry, but I'd really like for you to wake up for me." He tapped her gently on the face. "Please." Nothing. It was time to call in reinforcements. Jack was half way to the phone when the realization hit him. Kira was sent here by Daniel.

"Daniel!" Jack hissed, not wanting to shout, on the off chance it might hurt Kira's head worse than it already was. "Dammit, Daniel, I know you must be nearby. Get your ascended ass down here and help me. DANIEL!" Jack blinked and suddenly Daniel was there.

"Oh God," Daniel breathed as he took in Kira's still form and Jack's fear. What had he done! "I didn't know, Jack," Daniel began. "I swear to you had I known…" Daniel looked horrified. "I'm so sorry." Daniel moved to Kira's side and bent down next to her. Jack could see how much he wanted to reach out and touch her.

"She's alive," Jack informed him. However angry he might be at Daniel right now, he knew Daniel was just as angry at himself. "Can you tell how badly she hit her head?" Jack asked. Kira's silence was beginning to scare him. Help. He needed to call for help.

"I'm not a doctor, Jack," Daniel said helplessly.

"Yes you are," Jack replied automatically.

"Jack…" In a different situation, Daniel might have laughed. "Had I been a _medical _doctor, I might have been able to tell you something."

"You sure?" Jack asked. Daniel nodded.

"I can't tell you anything more than you already know."

"Somehow I doubt that," Jack muttered as he stood up. "We need to get her some help, Daniel, you call Janet, while I go get some ice for her head." Daniel looked at him quizzically.

"Um, Jack?"

"Daniel, you know where the phone is!" Jack said angrily, as he reached into the freezer for the ice cube trays. Daniel continued to look confused, and more than a little sad.

"Jack, I can't help you," Daniel explained. "I'm not physically here, remember?"

"Dammit!" Jack cursed, angrily setting down the tray. "I can't believe I forgot something like that. You need to wear a bell or something."

"A bell?" Daniel asked, perplexed.

"Or something!" Jack was both frustrated and more than a little distraught. He emptied the ice cube tray into a heavy Ziploc bag and grabbed a clean towel. He returned to the kitchen and once again put his fingers on Kira's neck. He exhaled with relief: still strong.

"She's going to be fine," Daniel said confidently.

"And you know this how?" Jack asked, as he gently pulled back part of Kira's hair to gain better access to the rapidly growing lump on her temple. _I gave her this concussion._

"The same way I know that you are now blaming yourself," Daniel answered.

"Daniel," Jack warned. Ascended being or not, Daniel still knew how to read Jack O'Neill. Their conversation wasn't bringing Kira much help, but it was helping Kira regain consciousness.

"Would you guys keep it down a little," Kira whispered painfully, as she shifted minutely on the floor. The small movement made her gasp out loud.

"Kira, try not to move," Jack advised, laying a warm hand on her shoulder. He looked down at her with worried brown eyes. "You're going to be fine." Kira darkly decided that 'fine' was a euphamism for 'in a lot of pain'. She _hurt - _and not just her head. She recalled Jack hitting her with the frying pan, but...not much more. Over her head, Kira could still hear Jack and Daniel talking. She attempted to open her eyes a little to look at the men, but the light sent her inso sensory overload, and she quickly scrunched them shut. Maybe if she shielded her eyes...Kira tried again, this time, attempting to move her left arm to shade her light-sensitive eyes. Her arm wouldn't move. Or to be more precise, her _hand _wouldn't. That didn't make sense. Kira tried again and was rewarded with a sharp, blinding pain that left her gasping in pain and wondering if she might throw up. "What's wrong with me?" She managed to ask.

"Kira, I think you.." Jack fumbled for the proper pronoun. "_I _broke your wrist."

"Hurts," Kira hissed between her teeth. It hurt _a lot. _Kira struggled hard not to cry. Not only would it scare her friends, but it would probably make everything hurt worse.

"Try not to move, Kira " Daniel advised. "We need more ice, Jack."

"We need an ambulance, Daniel."

"It's not going to get any less broken, Jack."

"She needs help, _now, _Daniel!" Beneath their bickering, and through her tears, Kira smiled.

"I love you guys," she murmered, as the men hurried to get her more ice and imobolize her wrist. She had missed them.

* * *

With Daniel keeping her company, Jack dialed the SGC and talked with Janet. He knew this would mean an automatic return to the Infirmary for him as well, but seeing how well his trip home had turned out, he thought it might not be a bad idea to go back. Just for a few days. This time he wouldn't hide any of his outward…manifestations. 

Well, none of the psychological ones. Daniel he was going to continue to keep quiet about. He had enough to worry about without folks thinking he was bonkers.

Daniel stayed with them both until help arrived. The ice, and keeping her hand immobile, helped control the pain in her hand, but it did little for her head – she hurt. Jack had given her three ibuprofens for the swelling and pain, but it did little to ease the jack hammer in her head. Both Daniel and Jack did their best to keep her distracted.

"On the bright side, Kira," Jack said trying to take her mind off things, "you get to witness the awesome power of Dr. Janet Fraiser and her brightly lit infirmary."

"Brightly lit?" Kira groaned, shutting her eyes.

"Jack will turn the lights down for you," Daniel added. "Won't you, Jack?"

"Absolutely," Jack agreed, nodding. "We can even get glow in the dark chess pieces."

"You're going to stay with me?" Kira asked softly. She had found it hurt less if she talked slow and soft. Jack shrugged.

"Probably for a few days," Jack said. Realization made him pause. "That is if you want me too," he said hurriedly. "I would completely understand if…"

"Jack it was an accident," Kira replied. "I'd love for you to keep me company."

"He snores though," Daniel said with a grin. Jack gave him a look.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Um, guys?" Kira interjected. As much as she enjoyed listening to them argue, she suddenly realized she had a problem. "Actually, sharing the infirmary with Jack might be something of a problem," Kira explained. She was thinking about Dr. Drexell. Ryan was going to have a field day with this! In addition to a pounding headache and a wrist that was rapidly becoming the size of Big Mac, Kira now had to deal with terminal embarrassment. She had no idea how she was going to explain any of this.

"I don't snore _that _bad," Jack insisted. Kira would have shaken her head back and forth if she could.

"It's not that," Kira explained. "Um, you see..." Kira stumbled to find the right words. In the distance, she could hear the sound of an ambulance. "It all started when Daniel broke a light bulb in the base library..."

Completed July 14, 2006

* * *

**Notes:** The SGC floors/layout came from Stargate-Wiki (URL on my website)  
**Benedict Arnold** – His name is used in American vernacular (everyday speech) to mean "traitor". BA lived during the American Revolution and betrayed the Americans to the British. Not that it helped all that much... ;p 

This is (by far!) my longest Barista/Assistant ever. Please let me know what you thought of it!


	9. Infirmary

**Title:** The Assistant 09 - Infirmary  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Season:** 6  
**Related Episode(s):** Assistant 8, 606 - Abyss  
**Summary:** Kira's trip and subsequent stay in the infirmary doesn't go exactly as planned.

**Author's ramblings: **Excuses for my four-month lateness detailed _after _the story. Without further ado, I bring you the next installment of The Assistant.

* * *

Previously on the Assistant: 

_"Um, guys?" Kira interjected uncertainly. As much as she enjoyed listening the two of them argue, there was something she probably should let them know. "Actually, sharing the infirmary with Jack might be something of a problem." Kira was thinking about Dr. Drexel and that darn SGC rumor. As if she didn't have enough to deal with. So now, in addition to a pounding headache and a wrist that was rapidly becoming the size of a Big Mac, Kira now had to deal with terminal embarrassment. She had no idea how she was going to explain any of this. _

_"I don't snore _that _bad," Jack insisted. If Kira could have shaken her head back and forth, she would have. _

_"It's not that," Kira explained. "Um, you see..." She stumbled to find the right words. Faintly, Kira could hear the sounds of an approaching ambulance; she didn't have a lot of time. "It all started when Daniel broke a light bulb in the base library..." _

* * *

Jack and Daniel were making a valiant effort to keep their voices low in deference to my aching head; however the new arrivals were most certainly **not.**

Dr. Fraiser's voice is the first one I hear. "Colonel O'Neill? Are you in here?" Not only is her voice painfully loud, but she didn't come alone. The front door bangs open, and I hear the footfalls of several people as they briskly walk (pound) across the threshold. Usually I love old houses and wooden floors, but what I wouldn't give for thick pile carpet about now!

"Jack?" I whisper, trying to project my voice above the din of the approaching medical personnel. Jack looks down at me in concern and squeezes my hand. "Two words." I attempt to wet my lips, but my tongue feels bone dry. Jack looks at me expectantly as I continue. "Area rugs." I'm truly not trying to be flippant, it's just that thinking about carpets or rugs, is really helping to take my mind off both my head and hand. That is until I _remember_ the rather unnatural state of my wrist. I make the mistake of glancing down at the purple swollen monstrosity by my side and grimace. Naturally, the grimace makes my head hurt even more. I struggle not to cry in both pain and embarrassment. What kind of idiot gets knocked out in a friend's kitchen?!

"We're in the kitchen!" Jack answers. I know he was trying to yell 'quietly', but it still resonates uncomfortably loud in my ears. I must have moaned aloud, because the next thing I know, I feel Jack touching my shoulder in apology. "Sorry Kira."

"Forget area rugs," I mutter, eyes still firmly shut. "I'd kill for a set of ear plugs right now."

"It'll be over soon," Jack assures me. He reaches down and squeezes my good hand.

"Just tell everyone to whisper," I ask, my voice cracking slightly as the pounding footsteps get closer. I close my eyes even tighter and choke back a sob. _God, this hurts._

"Colonel O'Neill?" That's Janet's voice.

"Shhh, not so loud," Jack says quietly. I'm sure if I could open my eyes, I'd be looking up at the worried brown eyes of one Dr. Janet Fraiser.

"I was actually on my way out the door when your call came in," Janet explains and she lifts my wrist (the good one) to take my pulse. She tries to sound all matter-of-fact like, but it seems to me as if she is a bit embarrassed.

"You were coming to check on me," Jack answers darkly. Janet sighs.

"Yes Colonel, I was coming to check on you." There is another pause, and I imagine Jack giving Janet the evil eye. "And it seems for good reason," Janet continues. Before Jack can answer, she changes tactics. "Kira, honey, how are you feeling?" Her voice is quiet and soothing. I can feel her cool hands lightly touching my neck and shoulders.

"Everything is too loud," I whisper. "Can people die from headaches?" I'm actually quite serious. The way I'm feeling right now, I think I might prefer death.

"I know it hurts honey, and I'll give you something to help in just one moment…" her voice trails off. "Lieutenant?" So much for my powers of observation – I had no idea there was another officer in the room with Jack and Janet.

"No recorded allergies, ma'am."

"Kira, does this sound right?" Dr. Fraiser asks me. "Do you know if you're allergic to morphine or any other narcotic?" I shake my head without thinking, and cry out as the movement sends what feels like daggers into my skull. I'm now crying and wondering what the hell I'm doing lying on Jack's floor with what feels like a broken skull and wrist, and I can't help but wonder if it would hurt this much if my brain had leaked out the cracks. I wince at the imagery. Great.

I don't hear the exchange between Janet and her nurse, but a moment later I feel a cool wetness on my arm, followed by the briefest of pinches. Within seconds, the pain begins to ebb. At first it's subtle, but then it becomes stronger – almost like that sensation you feel right before drifting off to sleep - when your body becomes super heavy and you nearly melt into your mattress in nocturnal bliss. I feel my face muscles completely relax, along with pretty much every other part of my body.

"Thank you." My voice sounds funny - as if I'm talking with a mouthful of helium after drinking several shots of vodka. "All better now." I meant for that to come out as a question, but I couldn't quite make my voice rise in inflection. I try again. "Where are you taking me?" This time, I'm certain it sounded like a question.

"You're going to be just fine, Kira," Dr. Fraiser explains, patting my hand. Is it just me, or does Janet sound like she just entered a wind tunnel? "We're taking you to C.S. General." _Not the SGC ?_ I'm trying to formulate another question when I'm suddenly picked up and transferred to a stretcher. Without warning, I begin to retch.

I remember Janet shouting for someone to support my head and I remember hearing myself cry out, but within moments I'm given another shot of something or other.

I don't remember much after that second shot.

* * *

"SGCDEFG…" Kira began to sing, substituting 'ABC' with 'SGC'.. 

"At least she stopped vomiting," Jack began, trying to look on the bright side. "If only she'd come up with another verse…" He listened patiently as she ended the song and began yet another round of the SGC ABCs. He rubbed a hand tiredly across his face. "She just won't shut up will she?"

"It must be a reaction to the combination of the Morphine and the anti-nausea medication," Janet replied taking hold of Kira's wrist. She looked at Jack with worried eyes. "Colonel, I really don't like the way her heart is racing."

"I _like_ racing," Kira announced blithely. "Everyone thinks I'm this _meek_ little _careful_ driver, but I'd kill to drive just a couple laps in the Indy 500!" She made 'vroom vroom' noises and sighed happily. Jack and Janet exchanged glances. Kira opened her eyes and attempted to focus on Jack, but became frustrated at the dual (and dueling) images of the Colonel. "Would you quit that!" Kira insisted, as she pawed at the empty air to Jack's left.

"Oh boy," Dr. Fraiser muttered under her breath.

"At least she's comfortable," Jack conceded awkwardly. Kira lolled her head drunkenly towards Jack's voice. "How about you, Jack?" Kira asked cheerfully, her thoughts still firmly on race cars. "Do you like racing?" She nodded to herself before anyone could answer. "I'll bet you'd kick _ass_ driving alien hover cars!" Jack grimaced. Alien hover car? Clearly, Kira read way too much science fiction.

"Dr. Fraysher!" Kira began excitedly, as a thought crossed her mind. "Did y'know that ascended beings are actually just big blobs of energy?" Kira nodded and smiled in memory. "Daniel told me." She frowned in concentration. "I wonder if they ever use alien hover cars…?" Kira's brow wrinkled as she contemplated the notion. Suddenly a huge smile appeared on her face as she shook her head back and forth. "Nope! No alien cars," she began. "They don't need them as they're just big balls of energy!" She giggled again. " Naked energy!" The giggle began to give way to blushing, and Jack was pretty certain she wasn't thinking entirely PG thoughts at the moment. In spite of himself, the corner of his lips curled into a smile. Oh how he hoped Daniel was listening to this!

Slightly above, and to Jack's right, an _in_corporeal Daniel Jackson listened to Kira's ramblings and blushed. Or at least it would have appeared as a blush had he been in human form. He knew Jack was laughing at his misery, which somehow made it all the worse. At least Jack couldn't see him, which was at least a small consolation. Daniel knew Kira was in good hands, but he wasn't going to leave until he was certain everything was going to be fine. Perhaps if he hadn't been so concerned over Ascension Protocol last time, he would have remained near Jack's side and been able to help. Or maybe that was the point? Maybe he really wasn't supposed to help at all anymore. Daniel really didn't think he could do that. All he knew was that this time, he was staying put. Naked energy and all.

"Definitely an adverse reaction," Janet announced, as she shined a small penlight into Kira's eyes.

"No, really?" Jack deadpanned. Janet just shook her head before turning her attention back to Kira. She watched as the light caused Kira's pupils to sluggishly expand to twice their normal size. Eyes that were normally clear and green were now hazy and unfocused – definitely not good.

"_Naked omnipotent ascended_ energy!" Kira said again, with a girlish laugh.

"Oh boy."

As much as Jack was enjoying what he knew must be Daniel's extreme embarrassment (wherever he might be), Jack was too much of a military man not to realize that this was actually a problem. "Janet, we can't bring Kira to a public hospital in this condition," Jack said seriously.

"In public!" Kira giggled. A shadow crossed her face as she considered something new. "Jack! If a tree falls in the woods and there's no one else to hear it, does it really make any noise?" Before Jack could answer, Kira continued. "And if Daniel floats around the galaxy naked, but there aren't any humans around to see him, is he really naked?" Janet closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. Jack tilted his eyes upward and grinned.

"Lieutenant Harris?" Janet called up to the driver.

"Ma'am?"

"I need you to change directions," Janet explained. "We need to take Ms. Meyers here back to the SGC."

* * *

At first I thought I was hearing voices in my head, but then I realized they actually belonged to other people. I still didn't like the fact that my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, but I'll take fluffy white cotton balls to big steel spikes any day. 

"Well look who's waking up." I don't even need to open my eyes to know that voice.

"Hi, Jack." My mouth is dry, but at least it doesn't hurt to talk.

"Feel better?" I nod carefully, but refrain from opening my eyes. I wasn't so keen to see the return of those spikes.

"Where am I?"

"You don't remember?" Jack asks. I can hear the humor in his voice and instantly become worried.

"No."

"Well, let's just say you shouldn't quit your day job and try out for a part on Broadway." _Oh Lord, what did I do? _

"Do I really want to know?" I ask, knowing the answer was most assuredly 'no'."

"Oh probably not," Jack replies cheerfully. "But seeing as how half the base heard you recite your 'SGC ABCs', you might want to hear a few of the details."

"Shoot me now," I moan, trying to sink into my bed sheets. Unconsciously, I lick my dry lips.

"You feel up to some ice chips?" Jack asks. "Cool, refreshing and yes, I do believe they are even filtered." I smile and nod gratefully. Jack holds up a little cup full of ice and shakes it provocatively. Carefully, I pry my eyes open. No pain! Smiling, I reach out for the cup of ice, only to discover that my left arm has completely turned to lead. I glance down to see why. There, lying against a crisp and clean white infirmary sheet, is a clean white infirmary cast. Wow. My first cast! I wiggle the purple-looking fingertips experimentally.

"All present and accounted for," Jack informs me.

"Is this normal?" I ask, holding up my rather puffy-looking hand.

"You've never broken a bone before?" Jack asks, sounding both shocked and impressed at the same time. I shake my head carefully no.

"Piece of cake," Jack assures me, as he pulls up a chair and takes a seat beside me. Behind Jack I can see a guard standing by the doorway. Jack tracks my eye movement and shrugs. "It's just a precaution." He leaves the rest unsaid and motions back towards my wrist.

"What you have missy, is a simple fracture of the radius."

"It doesn't look simple," I reply darkly. I can't help but focus on the swelling of my hand and fingers. I mean, how can purple fingers be the result of a "simple" fracture?

"Trust me, it's simple," Jack says. He rolls up his sleeve and holds out his own arm, pointing at the bones near his wrist. "Your lower arm is actually made up of two bones." He turns his wrist over and runs his fingers over the bone closest to his thumb. "This is the radius, and it's the larger of the two bones in your arm."

"What's the other one called?"

"Ulna." I don't see any sign of either _radius _or _ulna_ written down, so I guess this means Jack actually knows his bones. "You broke, in one place, the larger radius bone."

"What's this here?" I ask pointing at two small lumps on the side of his arm. Jack glances down as if he didn't know they were there.

"Ah, those." He doesn't say anything for a few moments, and I wonder if I should change the subject. "Remember how I said you had a simple fracture?" I nod. "Well, these guys here are the result of comminuted fracture."

"Committed?" Jack laughs and shakes his head.

"No, commin-_uted._ It's the opposite of simple."

"So why don't they call it complex?"

"Because if we used words everyone understood, we might go out of business." Dr. Fraiser!

"Hey Doc," Jack says casually, lifting his arm away from me and rolling his sleeve back down. "Just telling Kira she shouldn't worry about her injury." Janet gives me a smile as she picks up my chart.

"He's right about that. How are you feeling?"

"Um, does horribly embarrassed count?" I sink back in my bed with a sigh. I look up at Dr. Fraiser hopefully. "Unless Jack was pulling my leg…" Dr. Fraiser smiles and shakes her head.

"Afraid not."

"Darn." Janet pats my hand (the good one) sympathetically. "Don't worry Kira. I know for a fact that at least four SG teams were off-world when we brought you in."

"And a whole bunch of geeks were over at Area 51 on some sort of field trip." My eyes widen. That means its tomorrow. I lost an entire day! I mentally cross my fingers in hopes that it _has_ been only one day. If I've been out for longer than that, I'm going to have to come up with some pretty exotic (lie) reason at to where I've been. On the plus side, at least I didn't miss out on going to Area 51. My group isn't scheduled to go until next month.

"So not everyone heard my horrible singing?" Dr. Fraiser shakes her head and gives me a reassuring smile.

"No, not everyone, honey."

"Not yet," Jack mumbled.

* * *

Jack sat in the dark watching Kira sleep. She had wanted to go home, but Janet had done her usual bang-up job of convincing the injured woman to stay. Not that Jack was under any illusions that Kira had had a choice in the matter. Janet was always conservative when it came to head injuries, but _Kira _thought she had a choice, and that's all that really matters. 

"Should you really be here, Jack?" Daniel whispered, appearing out of nowhere.

"I could ask the same of you," Jack whispered back, glancing briefly to his side to see if Daniel was actually there.

"Touché." In spite of himself, Jack smiled. God, he had missed Daniel.

"Is she really going to be all right?" Daniel asked.

"Weren't you the one telling me she would be fine?" Jack countered.

"Well yes, but that was when I was trying to prevent you from panicking."

"I was _not _panicking," Jack answered hotly. Daniel gave him a look.

"No, you're right, Jack. You handled the accidental whalloping of a friend with a frying pan with perfect poise and aplomb."

"Daniel," Jack hissed between his teeth, "when the heck did you become so sarcastic?" Daniel shrugged.

"It just happened."

"You're really not the same guy I first met six years ago, are you?" The question was rhetorical, but Daniel still answered.

"I stopped being that guy shortly after my wife died, Jack," Daniel said quietly. Several dozen difficult missions hardened me, made me a stronger person."

"I missed the old Daniel who needed me."

"I'm still here, Jack." Jack chuckled softly.

"Well, maybe with a little more physical substance…" Daniel began. "You're my best friend, Jack. I'll always need you."

"You know I'd hug you if you were real, right?"

"I am real, Jack." Daniel held up a hand to prevent Jack's impending interruption. "I know what you mean. I would, too." They sat in comfortable silence for several long moments.

"How long are you staying?" Jack asked. He tried to sound casual, but he knew his friend would see right through him.

"I'll stay until both Kira and _you _are back home."

"Kira goes home tomorrow."

"And you?" Jack shrugged. "I need to stay until Fraiser and the Shrink of the Month say otherwise."

"Are you okay with that?" Jack turned at looked Daniel in the eye.

"Yeah, I actually am." Jack gestured towards Kira. "I don't want anything like this to happen again."

"It won't," Daniel assured him.

"And how do you know?" Daniel smiled

"I am _omnipotent ascended energy _you know," Daniel replied, quoting what Kira had said in the ambulance.

"You forgot naked," Jack added.

In her sleep, Kira giggled.

* * *

I had just finished getting dressed and was attempting to tie a shoe with one hand, when I hear a funny sound behind me. 

"Knock knock." I raise an eyebrow and shake my head in disbelief.

"You're knocking on a bedpan, Jack."

"It's clean," Jack insists. He then makes a face and carefully sets it back down. "I think…"Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strides over to where I'm attempting to tie my shoes.

"Velcro," Jack says sagely as he lightly bats my hands away and ties my shoes for me. "Look into getting something with Velcro."

"I'm thinking clogs," I say.

"Not really an option for a macho military man," Jack replies, indicating himself. "But I think you'll be able to pull it off." He finishes the shoe and stands up. I hear both his knees angrily pop in protest.

"Kira, see what you can do about finding a cure for old age," Jack sighs as he pulls up a chair and plops down into it. I giggle.

"I'll see what I can do." I'm about to ask Jack how he's doing when I hear a very intentional 'ahem' at the door. I turn to see who it is and instantly pale.

"Dr. Drexell." _Oh God! How long has he been standing there?! _

"Ms. Meyers," Drexell answers formally. "Colonel O'Neill." He acknowledges Jack with a nod. Jack continues to sit casually in his chair. Seconds pass. I'm beginning to get panicky. I did tell Jack about Drexell, didn't I?

"So what brings you to our little infirmary, Dr. Drixell?"

"Drexell," Ryan corrects curtly. "I was coming to check on Ms. Meyers. I had heard she had been in an accident."

"Why?" Jack asks slowly. I resist the urge to slap my hand to my head as I'd probably knock myself out. Jack! For God's sake, don't antagonize the man.

"Ms. Meyers is a colleague," Ryan answers stiffly. "I was just making sure she was okay."

"So this had nothing to do with the rumors." Okay. Guess I can stop worrying about Jack not knowing.

Of course, now I'm worried by what Jack's going to _do. _He slowly stands up to his full height, a good five or so inches taller than Ryan, and stands there looking quite military and menacing. He might be dressed in baggy blue trousers and a loose military shirt, but Jack can intimidate nearly anyone. Problem is, I really don't think now is the time for intimidating.

"Rumors?" Ryan sputters, taking a step back. "What rumors?" I look frantically around the room for a place to hide. Where are my incredible powers of invisibility when I need them?!

"You know," Jack insists, taking a step closer to Ryan. "Those unsubstantiated rumors about Kira and a senior officer on base." He takes another step.

"Se-enior officer?" Ryan asks. If I weren't completely mortified, I think I'd take a little bit of pleasure from all his discomfort. But as it is, I'm going for mortification. Jack?! What are you doing?

"You do understand Dr. Drixell, that we here at the SGC frown upon uncorroborated rumors (Ha!) and inappropriate fraternization." Ryan looks confused. Is Jack agreeing with him?

"Ru-umors can be dangerous," Ryan says.

"Absolutely," Jack agrees with a nod. "And same goes for fraternization."

"So you agree with me?" Ryan is in complete shock.

"Yep," Jack says with a nod. "Fraternization is against policy and bad for morale. In fact, I was just telling Kira the same thing." _You were? _

"You were?" Ryan looks relieved. "Er… okay then." He pauses as he takes in me on the hospital bed, and Jack standing casually by my side. "So there's nothing to worry about?"

"Not a thing!" Jack says jovially as he motions Ryan out.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am!" Ryan says. _Relieved? Why should he be relieved? _"Thank you Colonel O'Neill." Ryan reaches out and gives Jack's arm a quick shake. Jack doesn't look like he particularly relishes the contact.

Ryan is nearly to the door, when Jack snaps his fingers. "Ah there is one thing though," Jack begins. "Well, two actually." Ryan looks at him expectantly.

"Yes?"

"Well, you see, the thing about military fraternization rules… well, they really only apply to those in the _military." _Jack gives Ryan a small shrug and I can see that he is seriously enjoying himself. Ryan on the other hand, looks like he just ate a whole lemon.

"And the rumors?" Ryan asks hoarsely.

"As you might have _heard," _Jack says mischievously, "I have actually been away these last few weeks, so I'm not really up to date on the SGC rumor mill." He pauses to see if Dr. Drexell will say anything, but Ryan remains silent. Jack looks disappointed. "But," Jack continues as he casually maneuvers Ryan closer and closer to the hallway. "There is one thing I can say about rumors."

"What's that?" Both Ryan and I are almost holding our breaths in anticipation, albeit for different reasons. Jack gives us both a slow smile.

"I like 'em."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, for all those interested, here are the reasons this took FOUR months to complete: sold a condo, bought a house, moved into said house, repaired said house, made money to pay for said house (work), and last but not least, more home repairs! I just want you to know that I have **not **forgotten about Kira and will do everything I can to continue writing her story until at least Daniel comes home (season 7). Hopefully longer, but I'll need a hefty new dose of inspiration from Muse (and you!) before I endeavor to write another full season. No one panic! I haven't said I'm stopping, I'm just... fielding a trial balloon! g 

Oh! And if you enjoyed the notion of Kira's singing the SGC ABC's, check out IDMike's fantastic lyrics (on my website - I love my readers!!)- there's even music (it's from an SCA (?) song called The FIghter's ABCs). Thank's Meliss..er, I mean IDMike! ;p

And to show how much I _adore _all you guys, here's a little sneak peek at the next story!

* * *

_Next on the Assistant… _

I might be pretty good at running numbers, but that doesn't mean I always like it. At least this is my last register to reconcile. I open up an envelope containing yesterday's receipts and do my best not to sigh. Sometimes being the General Manager of a coffee shop blows. I chuckle softly to myself. But there are days…

"Hey Stefan, some guy out front is asking for you."

"Moi?" I ask, looking interested. I'm not scheduled to be on the floor today, and all the baristas know it.

"Not something Laurie can handle?" Laurie's the new Assistant Manager. She's absolutely nothing like Kira (the poor girl is so _literal) _Still, it's probably for the best. If I had hired a Kira-clone, this would have just made me miss my dear Kree all the more.

"The guy is pretty insistent. He wants you, Stefan." _Wants? Is he cute? _I raise my eyebrows in question and lean back in my chair in at attempt to get a peek.

"Which one?"

"He's the average-looking guy with sandy blonde hair," Jess whispers, pointing in the general vicinity of the second register. I wrinkle my nose. _So not cute! _

"You mean the one slapping a pair of hideous leather gloves against his palm?"

"That's him," Jess replies.

"And you're sure he wants me?" I'm not trying to shirk my duties here, but let's be honest – the guy didn't look all that happy, plus he was in desperate need of some serious exfoliation.

"He was pretty adamant." I sighed.

"Let's get this over with." I stand up and take a moment to lock things up. It isn't that I don't trust the employees; it's just that…well okay. So I don't trust _all _the employees. Besides, anyone could walk into the back room and heaven knows I don't trust even _half _of my customers! I run my fingers through my hair and put on my best smile as I follow Jess out to the floor.

"Sir?" Hideous leather man turns around.

"Yes?" The man replies. In person, the guy looks even more boorish. How the heck does he know me? "Are you the Manager?" He seems disappointed. As if I wasn't quite what he was expecting. Well, no offense bub, but you're really in no position to talk. Have you even _considered_ teeth whitening?

"That I am," I reply courteously. It took 18 months of schooling and nearly $20,000 in school loans, but I have learned how to be courteous. "May I help you Mr…?"

"Drexell," the man replies. He gives me a humorless smile. "Dr. Ryan Drexell."

* * *

**More Author's Note:** I do hope you enjoyed this Flashback continuation! I hadn't actually intended to do an immediate continuation after I wrote the last chapter…but it was kind of requested. Umm…by pretty much everyone! g I wanted to go back to Kira's 1 st person voice, but realized there were some things I wouldn't be able to do if it was entirely in Kira's POV, so…I took artistic liberties and included two different POV (Kira's and a generic third person narrative). Hopefully, it's not too confusing! Please let me know what you think. I've been out of the fanfiction loop for soooo long, and am worried I might have lost my touch! ;o 

As always, thank you to Julia aka **tejas**, winner of this year's Overall Best Gen Story (Footprints) in the 2006 Stargate Fan Awards. It might be a short drabble, but it's POWERFUL. Go read! Additional thanks to Diane and Clarissa! Information on broken bones can be found here: www(dot)davidlnelson(dot)md(slash)WristFracture.htm. Oh! And if you haven't already, please take my little poll. I'm curious as to the average age of my readers! Thanks!

Written November 5, 2006


	10. Excuses

**Title:** The Assistant 10 - Excuses  
**Author:** dietcokechic  
**Email:** **Season:** 6  
**Related Episode(s):** Assistant 9 , 607 - Shadow Play  
**Summary:** Kira discovers that explaining mysterious injuries isn't quite as easy as Jack and Daniel made it look.

** Author's ramblings: **_My _excuses at the end, for now I just hope you enjoy the story!

This is for Patrick, a Barista/Assistant reader who sent me a tip about a job he thought I might be interested in - turns out he was right.

* * *

Previously on the Assistant: 

_I had just finished getting dressed and was attempting to tie a shoe with one hand, when I hear a funny sound behind me._

_"Knock knock." I raise an eyebrow and shake my head in disbelief._

_"You're knocking on a bedpan, Jack."_

_"It's clean," Jack insists. He then makes a face and carefully sets it back down. "I think..." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strides over to where I'm attempting to tie my shoes. _

_"Velcro," Jack says sagely as he lightly bats my hands away and ties my shoes for me. "Look into getting something with Velcro."_

_"I'm thinking clogs," I say._

_"Not really an option for a macho military man," Jack replies, indicating himself. "But I think you'll be able to pull it off." He finishes the shoe and stands up. I hear both his knees angrily pop in protest._

_"Kira, see what you can do about finding a cure for old age," Jack sighs as he pulls up a chair and plops down into it. I giggle._

_"I'll see what I can do." I'm about to ask Jack how he's doing when I hear a very intentional 'ahem' at the door. I turn to see who it is and instantly pale. _

_Dr. Drexell._

* * *

The conversation wasn't going as smoothly as I would have liked. 

"So let me get this straight," Stefan says in that tone of voice that tells you that he isn't buying a single word you're saying. "You had a _minor _accident earlier today and have decided to _spend the night _because you're just too tired to drive home." I decide not to clarify that the accident actually happened 36 hours ago and this would be my second night at the SGC . Although I don't feel bad about leaving that bit out, Stefan would find out soon enough about the other half of my problems.

"Actually," I reply sheepishly eyeing my swollen hand. "While it _is_ true that I'm really tired, I actually don't think…"

"You actually don't think what?" Stefan prompts. I sigh in defeat. So much for my plan to just give him a brief call to explain why I won't be able to make it over for our weekly Will and Grace night.

"I actually don't think," I continue, "that I can drive." I brace myself for the inevitable.

"You can't _drive_?!" Stefan shouts loudly into the phone. Ouch. I had no idea the inevitable would be so loud. I wince in pain and awkwardly pull the phone away from my ear a few inches.

"You don't think you can drive," Stefan repeats in a quieter voice. He pauses to consider his next words. "Kira, what the hell happened to you in that mountain?" I wonder if it would make him feel better to know I pretty much did it to myself _off _the mountain? I silently sigh and just stick with what I've told him so far. I know he's just worried about me. And truth be told, _I'm _a little worried about me as well.

After Jack had filled me in (more or less) on what a fool I had made of myself last night, we had a good long talk about what happened (accident) and about our assorted Daniel-sightings. Jack is fairly certain that Daniel isn't popping in on just anyone these days and thinks I should count myself as fortunate that I'm one of the few people Daniel is able to see. I was a little confused at the notion that Daniel couldn't actually see anyone he wanted, but considering that I have a head injury and all that, I'm not going to dwell.

I still think Jack made a mistake with goading Dr. Drexell earlier today, but I just have to take it on faith that he won't push him too far. I mean hardly any of the scientists, and none of the military _really_ think Jack and I are having an affair. Apparently, Daniel wasn't shy about praising Victor's coffee and I guess my name was mentioned once or twice. I'm more Jack's little sister or grown-up daughter than mistress. Still, while I might be safe from _truly _becoming rumor mill fodder, I'm not so sure I'm safe from Drexell. That man really doesn't like me. Or Jack.

"Kira, are you there?" Oops. I completely and unintentionally tuned Stefan out. Nice to know that Doctor Frasier's diagnosis of a moderate concussion was spot on.

"Sorry, Stefan."

"I _said_," Stefan repeated, "is there anything you need? Toothbrush, trashy novel, pint of ice cream..?" My heart tightens. I love my friends!

"I really appreciate the offer Stefan, but as soon as I hang up with you I'm probably going to go back to sleep." Another lengthy pause before Stefan replies.

"Are they waking you every couple of hours?" It takes me a second to process what Stefan has just said.

"Yes Dad," I reply sarcastically. "They're waking me every few hours…" I pause as I realize what Stefan has just said. "Hey! You know I have a concussion!" I accuse. "How do you know I have a concussion?" I didn't just say anything stupid and blab out what really happened, did I?

"It's only 7:30 at night Kira," Stefan explains. "Not exactly prime time for sleeping unless you're under the age of 8." Oops. Guess I should have called Stefan earlier. But then again, I really thought I was going to be going home earlier. I was all set to leave this afternoon. I got dressed all by myself, with only a little help from Jack with my shoes. Now if Jack wasn't a gentleman, I _might _have made it. After all, it wasn't like I was planning on driving myself home or anything. Jack couldn't drive me, so he had arranged for one of the airmen to do so. Initially, I had balked at the idea (favoritism on a military base isn't a very good idea), but Jack assured me that this was done for all SGC personnel. Having emergency transportation available to me was just one of the perks of the job. The last time an employee had been driven home was two weeks ago when Dr. Kettleman lost track of time and forgotten about his son's impending birth. Talk about embarrassing.

Anyhow, Jack was walking me to the elevator. I was doing just fine…up until the moment I was hit with a raging case of the dizzies. If I could have just held off ten more feet, I would have been home free! As it was, Jack caught me as I swooned and the next thing I knew I was back in the infirmary for more tests. Gee. Lucky me.

"Kira?" Crap! I did it again. Stefan chuckles softly.

"I could hear your zoning out miles away," Stefan explains. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually rather smart." I gasp in mock astonishment. I've known for years that Stefan plays down his intelligence. He might like...uncomplicated boyfriends (I didn't say dumb, I said uncomplicated) but that doesn't mean that _he _is.

"I've always known you're a pretty smart guy," I reply.

"Yeah, but don't _tell _anyone!" Stefan chuckles wickedly. "I know people, Kira," he says in a sing-song voice. "People who know people." He pauses. "People who know people who know how to break things…" Stefan is totally joking with me, but I'm afraid the heavy silence that follows gives me a way.

"Don't you _dare _tell me you broke something!" Stefan pauses as he mentally goes over everything I've told him so far. "You broke your arm, didn't you?" he accuses.

"I do _not _have a broken arm!" I reply hotly as I stare at my casted wrist. "But yeah, I did break something." Stefan sighs and I can just picture him shaking his head.

"Kira, when you took this job, I never thought in a million years that you would be as accident-prone as Professor Yummy."

Me either.

* * *

I don't even remember falling asleep, but I do know what woke me up.

"I thought I would find you in here, Colonel," a voice says loudly, jarring me back to the land on the living.

"Shhh, keep it down," Jack whispers next to my bed. "Can't you see she's sleeping?" I know I should open my eyes and announce that I'm awake, but to be honest, my eyes just don't feel like opening.

"Sorry," the voice whispers contritely.

"What do you want, Jonas?" Jack asks softly. He sounds tired.

"Colonel, I know General Hammond is going to make his decision soon, and I also know that you can back up Major Carter's belief that Kelowna is important."

"Carter just thinks we should go for the naquadria, Jonas. It has nothing to do with Kelowna ."

"They asked for your help, Colonel," Jonas pleads. "It is true that the situation was such that I felt the need to leave, but it isn't because I don't believe in my people. They're in trouble and need Earth's help."

"For crying out loud Jonas," Jack whispers angrily. "They _killed_ Daniel." Enough with passive listening, I need to get into this conversation.

"Who killed Daniel?" I ask groggily. I still seem to have problems getting my eyes to work quite right, but I can't possibly sleep through a discussion about Daniel.

"Good going Jonas," Jack mutters darkly.

"Who killed Daniel?" I repeat, managing to open my eyes. Jack is sitting by my bedside, glaring daggers at Jonas. Jonas is standing a few feet away, looking guilty.

"Sorry, Kira," Jonas says contritely. "I really didn't mean to wake you."

"I didn't really mean to fall asleep," I reply. "So we're even." I turn towards Jack. "Who killed Daniel?" I knew Daniel was exposed to lethal radiation while on a mission. I also know that it was while on Jonas' planet. What I didn't know was that it wasn't an accident.

"It was an accident, Kira," Jonas explains quietly.

"An accident your people could have prevented had you not played with things you didn't fully understand!" Jack sounds so incredibly angry and bitter. I can see Jonas struggling not to say what I think everyone is thinking: we play with things we don't fully understand all the time. We being Earth folk. Or to be more specific, _American_ Earth folk. Americans are notorious for pushing the envelope on innovation - aka playing with things we don't fully understand.

"It _was_ an accident," Jack grudgingly agrees. "But a stupid one," he adds. " Kelowna shouldn't have been messing around with fusion or fission or whatever it was they were fiddling with and _Daniel_..." Jack's voice trails off. "Daniel saw a bad situation and, like usual, put himself in harm's way in order to prevent it from getting worse." Jack pauses, glancing up at the ceiling briefly before shaking his head in resignation. "He saved hundreds of lives that day, but he couldn't save his own." Neither Jonas or I could say anything after that. I'm fairly certain that if I hadn't 'seen' Daniel just a few days ago, I would be crying. I guess ascension is good for some things.

"Look Jonas," Jack continues in a resigned voice, "even if I do back up Carter and agree we should head back to Kelowna, it's you and Carter who will probably end up going." Jack sighs again. "You, Carter and probably SG-3. Maybe Teal'c – it'll depend on Carter I imagine. All I know is that I sincerely doubt the General will let me go." He looks my way. "I'm pretty certain I'm still grounded."

"It was an _accident_, Jack!" I insist. Jack gingerly taps my cast-enclosed wrist.

"Accidents have ramifications Kira," he says softly. "I don't think this one is going to be swept under the carpet. General Hammond would need an awfully strong excuse to send me back out into the field so soon."

* * *

"Well it just goes to show you how wrong I was," Jack remarks drolly three hours later as he pokes his head into the infirmary to say goodbye. Dressed in full SG-1 regalia, I can tell he's on his way to the Gateroom. The gun slung over his back and a second strapped to his leg pretty much gives it away. I would not want to mess with armed-Jack. 

"Heading to Kelowna I take it?" I ask casually, as I carefully stand up. One of the nurses already helped me with my shoes, so I'm pretty much ready to blow this pop stand.

"Apparently naquadria trumps head cases," Jack explains with a shrug. "The Kelownan government really wants all of SG-1 and the Joint Chiefs really want naquadria. Ergo…" He pauses and slaps his chest with fingerless gloves. "Me." I walk over to where Jack is standing and give him a quick peck on the cheek. I would have hugged him, but I was concerned I might set off a grenade or something.

"Take care of yourself, Jack."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Jack replies. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops as someone approaches the infirmary. I smile as I catch sight of Chloe lurking in the doorway looking suitably awed by Mission-Jack. "Don't forget to cover your wrist in plastic bags when you shower," Jack advises as he as he flexes the brim of his baseball cap. "Soggy plaster itches like crazy." With those words of wisdom, he gives Chloe a small nod and leaves.

"Wow," Chloe says as she watches Jack leave. "I can see why Jay is so enamored with SG-1. Do they all act like that?"

"Do they all act like Jack O'Neill?" I repeat. "Definitely not." Jack is without question one of a kind. "Still," I say to Chloe as I grab my bag as we leave the infirmary. "All of SG-1 has that super-charged command presence."

"And hottness?" she asks seriously. "Are they all so damn hot?" I think of Daniel and smile. I then run through the SG-1 roster. Teal'c? Seriously hot. Sam? Drop dead gorgeous. Jonas? Cute as a button.

"Oh yeah," I say nodding with authority. "Definitely hot."

"You up for a quick bite before heading home?" Chloe asks. She knows how much I'm looking forward to getting back to my own bed, so I know she has something on her mind.

"Spill," I order without preamble as we walk out the door. The nurses already checked me out, so no is around except the ever-present video camera.

"It's Jay! I mean Dr. Felger!" Chloe gushes, as she tries to compose herself. I can see that she is just bursting to fill me in.

"What about Dr. Felger?"

"He and Dr. Coombs are scheduled to go off world with SG-1!"

Oh boy.

* * *

**My excuse...I mean Author Notes:** Once again, sincerest apologies that this took (gasp) seven months to write. Who would have thought that I'd be able to write more when I was _in _graduate school?! Yes, it's true that I took a month long vacation in January (UAE – loved it), but I never expected to fly home on a Monday and be gainfully employed by that Friday. Anyone working for a start-up knows that it's pretty much impossible to get anything done until _after _the release of your first widget. Thankfully, our widget will be/has to go out the door next month. I should be _much _better about writing after launch. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to that - I've missed Kira! I'm determined to at least finish season 6 and have Daniel come back. Plus I have an _epic _Kira-story I'm just dying to tell, but I can't do so until Daniel is back. I know it's taking far longer than any of us want, but I'll get there. Promise! Oh! And that teaser scene with Drexell last chapter? It's still coming... evil grin 

It's been a long time since I've posted anything, so please review and let me know if I can still write, okay?

My goal (at least for the next few months) is to write shorter (5-7 page), but more frequent Kira stories. My stories have gotten longer and longer, and while I adore writing more thorough adventures, the realities of R.L. mean I just can't do it as often as I would like. Wouldn't you rather have two 5-page stories in two months, rather than one ten-pager in two? looks smug I thought so!

Written June 17, 2007


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